Dreams Don't Come Easy
by WhiskeyLips
Summary: Now that Deacon and Rayna are back together, what does that mean for Chip and Connie? The rest of their story. Bristen fic. AU
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Just a disclaimer that this is complete and total fiction. If you don't like this kind of imagining, there are plenty of other stories here to read!_

He woke up with a start. Connie was tucked into his side, her head on his shoulder, breathing softly against his skin. It was dark and, for a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked around and realized they were at the river house. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table next to them and saw that it was 2:45. He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. Not as late as he'd thought. But they couldn't stay here all night, as nice as the thought of that would be.

"Connie," he whispered. She made a little noise, but didn't move. "Connie," he said, a little louder. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, looking confused. "Baby, we've gotta go."

She sat up then, pulling the blanket with her. "Oh, God, Chip, what time is it?"

He sat up too and turned to put his feet on the floor. "Almost 3:00," he said. "Let's go. We can still check in and get a little more sleep."

They both got up and hastily got dressed. Connie raked her fingers through her hair furiously, trying to put it into some semblance of order. She looked at him and chuckled, then walked over and ran her fingers through his hair as well. "You had a very bad case of bed head, sweetie," she said, with a grin.

He smiled and kissed her. "You can follow me," he said, taking her hand. They started for the sliding doors and then she pulled back.

"Oh, wait, we need to go out the front door, so I can leave the key." He had forgotten that, turned and headed for the front of the house. They walked out and, using the light from his phone, she locked the door and put the key in the compartment. Then they walked around to their cars and she followed him to the hotel.

* * *

She was waiting at the elevator bank when he hustled down from the front desk with his key. She looked as exhausted as he felt and she leaned against him as they rode up to the fourth floor. They headed down the hall to the room and he opened the door. There was a king size bed and they both headed for it, stripping down to their underwear and crawling under the covers. He set his phone alarm for 6:30 and then turned out the light. She rolled towards him and he pulled her into his arms and they both fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

They both groaned with dismay when the phone alarm went off. He reluctantly disengaged from her and rolled onto his side, picking up the offending phone. He squinted at the screen and groaned again as he turned it off. Then he rolled onto his back. "Damn," he muttered, feeling like he'd just closed his eyes mere seconds earlier. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her neck. "Who's in the shower first?" he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

"Mm." She slid her hand down over the covers, landing on his morning erection. He made a noise as she rubbed him with her hand. "How about together?" she said, the sound of laughter in her voice.

He turned towards her, pressing himself against her stomach. He opened his eyes and saw that she was gazing at him, a sleepy smile on her face. "I'm gonna have to do something about this though," he said, with a smirk.

She rolled over to the opposite side of the bed and got up, looking down at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "Only if you beat me to the shower," she said, with a smile.

He sprang out of the bed and ran after her, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her up off the floor as she laughed. He carried her the rest of the way to the bathroom and turned the water on in the shower. As it heated up, they removed their underwear and then he slid his hands into her hair and pulled her close for a kiss. As he let his lips linger on hers, she pressed her hands against the small of his back and arched her back slightly as she tilted her hips against him. "Shower time, baby," he murmured.

He let her go and turned back to start the shower spray. She took a towel and wrapped it around her hair. He frowned a little when he looked at her. "Can't get my hair wet," she said. She made a little shooing motion with her hand. "Get in." He did, taking her hand to steady her as she stepped in after him.

He turned her to face the back wall, putting his hands on her waist and nudging her legs apart with his knee. "Gotta take care of you first," he whispered against her ear.

She chuckled softly. " _Me_ , huh?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

"Mm hm," he said as he pushed inside her. She breathed in sharply and then shifted her hips, pressing her ass back against him as she adjusted. He kept moving inside her, letting his hand drift down over her abdomen. He pressed her against the back wall as she moaned. Then she reached down between her legs and let her fingers trail over where they were joined together. "Oh, God, baby," he muttered, her touch like electricity. He began to thrust in and out of her quickly, unable to wait for his release. He pushed one final time, shouting out as he came, feeling her tense up and then relax herself as she cried out his name.

He slumped against her back as she leaned her head against the shower wall. They both were breathing hard and he could feel his heart beating fast. She had one hand against the wall and he covered it with his own. She let her fingers thread through his as she held him tight inside her. Then she laughed softly and he could feel it all the way through his body. "Well, that was certainly a nice wakeup," she said.

He kissed her hard on the cheek, a smile on his face, and then he pulled away from her, feeling the water pelting his back. "Yes, it was," he said. He gave her a soft pat on the ass. "Now it's time for a quick shower and we need to get you out of here."

* * *

Their shower lingered a little longer than it should have, but they were happy to be together and it was hard to let her go, even if it was just for a short time. When she was dressed and ready to leave, he pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her fiercely. Then she looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. "You act like I'm going away forever," she said.

He kissed her forehead. "Feels kinda like it," he said.

She smiled up at him. "Then come over earlier and you can see me get that no makeup look in makeup." She laughed.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I may have to do that but _you_ , young lady, need to get on over now." He hugged her close and felt her slide her arms around him. They just held each other for a moment and then he let her go, stepping back.

She held her hand up. "I'll see you soon then." She opened the door and slipped out and he was left by himself. It occurred to him as he stood looking at the door that the light went out in his life whenever she left him.

* * *

It was a long day of filming. It was also some of the most emotional work he and Connie had done together. The aftermath of Deacon telling Rayna he had cancer and believed he would die, her stubborn insistence they could work through it – together – and his equally stubborn resistance to that idea. It had culminated, of course, in the scene they'd filmed together, and later reenacted for themselves, the night before, when Rayna finally convinced Deacon to give in. Or wore him down, as he'd teased Connie.

They'd been told after lunch that they needed to refilm the scene outside the house where Deacon and Rayna had talked. It meant staying late again, because the crew would come back after filming other scenes on the schedule that day. Connie was nervous, because she had an early flight the next morning to DC for an event where she was speaking, but it couldn't be helped.

When the crew packed up to head back to the production stage, she turned and looked at him. "Are they actually leaving us here by ourselves?" she asked, with a surprised smile on her face.

He grinned. "I guess we could leave and come back, but it seems such a shame to miss out on this." He waved his arm towards the sliders and the river beyond.

She clasped her hands together against her chest. "I suppose that's true." She gave him a teasing look. "Whatever will we do to pass the time?" Then she laughed and he laughed with her.

He raised an eyebrow. "I could think of one thing," he said. She laughed again, then threw her arms wide and ran into his arms.

* * *

They were sitting on the couch, wrapped up together in the blanket they'd used the night before, facing out towards the river. The sun was low in the sky and it would be dark soon. The crew would be back by eight or so, for them to finish up. He leaned down and kissed her shoulder and she lifted her hand and rubbed his cheek. "So, I've been thinking about what we could sing together at your fundraiser," he said. He, along with other members of the cast, had agreed to perform at an event she was staging to raise money and provide visibility for the African Children's Choir. It was something close to her heart, because of Yoby, and he was happy to help her out.

She laughed. "Oh, no, no, no," she said, waving a finger in the air. "I told you after that last time, that I was never doing that again."

He grinned. "No, I think you said you'd never do it again unless _I_ was on stage with you."

"No, I'm very sure that is _not_ what I said."

He leaned into her ear. "Ah, come on, baby, we'll do it together. It'll be fine, I promise."

She turned slightly in his arms to look at him, a frown on her face. "It's in two weeks, Chip. I'm not going to do that. I don't have enough time to prepare anyway."

"I was thinking we could do something we've already done. Something that wouldn't take a lot of time to prepare for."

She shook her head and settled back against him. "I don't really want to argue with you on this, Chip," she said.

"Then don't." He reached under the blanket and played with her nipples, feeling them get hard under his fingers. She caught her breath and then made a little noise.

"You can't tempt me with sex," she said, her voice soft and languid.

He slid one hand down between her legs. "I can't?" he murmured into her ear.

"Chip, don't," she said, even as she drew her legs up. He plunged his index finger inside her, while he continued to play with her nipple, and she moaned. "This isn't fair," she whispered, as she moved her hips in rhythm with his finger sliding in and out of her.

"It's not supposed to be," he whispered, as he slid a second finger inside her.

"Oh, God, Chip, I'm gonna come," she groaned and then he felt her slip over the edge as she cried out. He loved how responsive she was to him and was grateful for this gift of extra time to spend together. She breathed in deeply, then let her breath out in a whoosh. "You definitely know how to get to me," she said then, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You take advantage when I'm most vulnerable."

"So that means you'll sing with me?"

She hesitated. "What were you thinking?"

"Something I think the fans will like. Something we've already done together."

She ran her fingers up and down his arm. "I'm afraid to hear what you've decided."

"'Rivers Between Us'." He personally thought it not only was a great Deacon and Rayna song, but it fit for them too. _There are kingdoms to keep us apart / So we live out our lives in the dark._ Those words in particular had always resonated with him. They had talked about how the song could have easily been about them, and their situation, and it had made it all the more poignant when they'd performed it in the last episode.

Her fingers stopped. "Are you sure? That seems kind of…risky."

He shrugged. "It's one the fans will like. It'll be a preview for the show. The fact that it could be about us? Beside the point."

She hesitated. "I don't know. The whole thing. The song. Singing at all. I just don't know."

He hugged her close. "Baby, it's your deal. I think it will be great. And we'll do it together, so you don't have to do it alone. And you don't have to do harmony. We can just straight sing it." He rubbed his head against hers. "Please, baby, sing with me."

She sighed, but was quiet at first. Then she sighed again. "I'll think about it," she said. She sat forward then. "I'm hungry."

He smiled. "Want me to go pick something up?"

She looked back at him over her shoulder. "Yes, please," she said, with a smile.

He slid out from under the blanket and pushed it around her. He reached for his clothes. "I'll be back then," he said. He quickly got dressed and then turned back to look at her as she sat on the couch with the blanket wrapped completely around her. "Any preferences?"

"Nothing heavy. Maybe just a salad or something." She smiled up at him.

"Okay, then. I'll be back." He walked over to where his jacket was and shrugged it on, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Then he headed out the door and down the porch.

* * *

It took longer than he'd expected to get back with food. Or maybe he really should have expected it. He had gone to Opry Mills, since it was close and there would be a selection, and, of course, people had recognized him. He'd gotten used to people calling out 'Deacon!' when he was out in public, or looking at him as they tried to decide if that's who he was. As he always did, he stopped and took selfies with fans, waved at others, and tried to be friendly. As he waited for food to get prepared at Claim Jumper, he signed autographs and chatted people up. As anxious as he was to get back, he never wanted a fan to be disappointed with their experience.

Connie was waiting anxiously when he got back. "What took you so long?" she asked, as she grabbed at the bag.

"Fans," he said, watching as she took containers out of the bag and slid his over to him.

"I hope they didn't follow you or anything," she said.

"I hope not either, but I didn't see any headlights in my rear view mirror," he said, with a wink. "I think we're safe."

She walked over to the couch with her salad, sitting down with her legs crossed. "I hope we're not here too late," she said, as she took the top off the salad and added the salad dressing. "I have such an early flight in the morning."

He sat down next to her, putting his carryout container on the coffee table. "How long will you be gone?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Just a couple days." She smiled. "It'll be a great trip, though. So rewarding to be honoring school counselors."

He smiled. "Like Tami Taylor, huh?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess. That's just such an admirable profession, in my opinion. You have such an opportunity to shape young minds and set them on the right path for the future. Good ones do, anyway." He loved listening to her talk about things that mattered to her. Her whole face would light up and he could hear the passion in her voice. He admired the fact that she made the time for so many things like this and it sometimes made him feel like he didn't do enough. Like he didn't measure up to her greatness.

"You're speaking, right?"

She nodded as she chewed. When she swallowed, she smiled. "Yes. Such an honor. And, of course, Michelle Obama will be there. I'm such a huge fan." She laughed. "I'll be fangirling the whole time."

* * *

The crew arrived late, filming ran until nearly midnight, and then she was gone. Although she'd only be gone for a few days, he missed her already.

 **######**

Of course he was able to talk her into singing with him. He'd known she would and, even though she claimed she hadn't decided until the night before, he knew she had decided long before that. As she'd said, he could always get her to agree. He ended up staying late. He wanted to celebrate with everyone, but mostly Connie. She'd done an amazing job with the show, selling out 3rd & Lindsley, and putting together an impressive lineup. She'd seemed almost giddy at times and he loved seeing her that way.

She'd looked so pretty, in a colorful dress that showed off her impossibly long legs, and knee high boots. He sat on the side stage, his eyes not leaving her as she went back and forth to the stage, encouraging her when she was backstage. Her smile was huge and her eyes were sparkling and she often reached for his hand to squeeze it.

They had been careful all night. She had clung to him a little onstage, but it was her nerves, he was sure most people thought. The hug at the end of the song had been a hug between coworkers, even though he knew it was more than that. She'd been relieved when he'd told her Patty wasn't coming, so she was a little more relaxed. It was still obvious that outside a studio she was shaky and unsure of herself onstage, but he loved that she was brave enough to do it. And the crowd loved the sneak peek at the upcoming song.

His mom and daughter, Taylor, had come and he'd tried to make sure they had a good time as well. They had tried to get him to leave with them, but he waved them off, telling them he wouldn't stay long. He hung close to Connie, caught up in her excitement, chatting with her friends who'd also come to support her.

He'd ended up staying longer than he'd meant to. "I'm gonna head on," he whispered in her ear finally, realizing he needed to get going.

She turned to face him, grabbing his shirt sleeve. Her smile lit up her face. "Thanks. For everything. For making me feel okay out there."

He smiled at her. "I'm glad it was a success."

She smiled again, a radiant smile. "It was, wasn't it? I wasn't sure people would really come."

He shook his head. "Seriously? I mean, you're Connie fucking Britton. Who wouldn't show up for _that_?" She gave him an amused side-eye and he shrugged. "The people who matter were here." He smiled. "Plus, I get to do this." He looked around but they were in a secluded area and no one was looking at them. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Very definitely not a coworker kind of thing.

"Chip," she scolded, with a tiny frown, as she pulled at his shirt sleeve again. "Don't. Not here."

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'll do better when I see you Tuesday."

She looked up at him a minute, then reached up and put her arms around his neck and hugged him, leaning into him. He put his arms around her waist and held her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair. She finally pulled away and he could see a wistfulness in her eyes. "I'll see you then," she said. Then she lifted her hand in a wave and turned to walk back into the crowd.

* * *

He made his way through the kitchen and turned for the stairs. "Chip," came a voice from the living room. He turned to see his mother, sitting in the dark. She turned on a lamp and he could see she didn't look happy. "Come sit," she said.

He hesitated. "I'm beat, Mom. Can we do whatever this is tomorrow?"

"It won't take long," she said. He still hesitated for a moment, then finally walked in and sat down in the chair next to her. She looked at him a little sternly, the way he remembered her looking at him when he was a little boy and he had disappointed her. "I'll be brief." He could see her displeasure, heard a tightness in her voice, and felt a mix of defiance and guilt. "All I want to do is remind you – again – that you have a family. A wife and children who love you. Don't throw it away for something that may not be real."

He was silent. She really didn't know what life had been like for him, for Patty, all these years. She obviously had no way of knowing his feelings for Connie, or hers for him, no matter what she may have surmised. She had no way of knowing those feelings were definitely very real.

"This could be over in an instant," she went on. "And she'll go back to California." He clenched his jaw. She put a hand on his arm. "Just think carefully." Her voice had softened then, just a bit, enough to let him know that, at the end of the day, her concern was for him. She got up then and walked back to the guest suite.

He turned out the light and sat back in the chair, thinking about what she'd said. There was always uncertainty around a TV show at renewal time. _Nashville_ certainly wasn't a ratings powerhouse, but it had a loyal group of fans. People around the show seemed apprehensive about the future, which did make him wonder about what would happen if they got cancelled.

First of all, he'd be disappointed. Deacon Claybourne was the role of a lifetime, one that let him do the two things he loved most – act and play music. He was writing music as well as performing it and it had totally reenergized him. But even more than that, he'd found Connie. He hadn't really thought about her going back to LA. He supposed he would too – it would be tough to field an acting career from Nashville – but he'd grown to love the city. And uprooting his family – again – would be hard.

He rubbed his hands over his face, then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Ever since his family had moved to Nashville, it had been a tricky thing. He was glad to have the time with his kids, to see them every day, be part of their lives again. They were the thing he and his wife had done really, really well. He loved Connie, though. Deeply. And she loved him, he knew that. It had been kind of a revelation, discovering the kind of deep, soul-changing love he had with her.

That Connie had been mostly patient and understanding had been a gift, but it wasn't any easier for her than for him. She filled her time with Yoby and new friends and causes she cared about. But he could hear the loneliness in her voice, see it in her texts, and he felt it too. There was never enough time and what they had was so precious.

He steepled his hands over his mouth and closed his eyes. It was hard for both of them and he had no easy answers. It meant they fought more, sometimes over things that didn't even relate to their relationship. He felt guilt on all sides. What he wanted more than anything was more time with her.

"You should come upstairs."

He opened his eyes and looked at his wife, standing on the stairs. He took a beat and then he got up. As he watched her walk ahead of him, he wondered why she didn't call him out. But she stayed quiet, stoic, smiling for the cameras, but otherwise ignoring the very large elephant in the room.

As his pace slowed, he thought about the fact that, one day, he'd have to face it. Either he'd make a choice or one would be made for him. He wanted to be in control of that, make the choice himself, if he could. What he knew for sure was he was hurting someone he still cared about and denying himself to the one he love.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: To the reviewer who tried to post a video clip – unfortunately this site doesn't allow that, so I'm not sure which clip you posted. Connie actually did 2 African Children's Choir benefits and sang with Chip at both. It's my understanding, from people who were there, that Patty was_ _not_ _at the first one. In any case, I thought it was cute that she would only perform on stage if Chip performed with her._

It was two days after the Nashville for Africa event when he saw Connie again. They had a scene together in Rayna's kitchen. When he walked over to the set, she wasn't there. He wondered if she was still in hair and makeup.

"Chip, Chip, Chippy!" He turned at the sound of Maisy's voice and grinned. She rushed up and hugged him, then looked up at him. "You look all messy," she said, a frown on her face.

He laughed. "Well, I think I'm supposed to look like I just rolled out of bed or something."

She twirled around with a smile. "I get to pretend to be asleep," she said, looking smug.

"You and your sister definitely have the easiest parts of this scene, that's for sure." Lennon came wandering up then and he smiled at her. "Ready, sleeping beauty?" he asked. She smirked and walked straight over to the couch. He frowned. "Y'all see Connie in hair and makeup?"

Lennon shook her head as she plopped down on the couch. Maisy raced over and jumped on the couch next to her. "Nope, she wasn't in there," she said.

"Well, I guess she'll be here soon enough," he said, mostly to himself. He paced a little, wondering where she was. He'd texted her when he got to work, but she hadn't responded, and now she was late to set. Well, she really wasn't _late_ , but he did wonder where she was and why she hadn't answered him.

* * *

She showed up just as they were getting ready to block out the scene. She smiled at him, but it was not a joyful smile. It was the kind of smile you'd give a co-worker just to acknowledge him or her. It made him feel a little apprehensive. When she was like this – standoffish and quiet – it usually meant something had happened that had annoyed her and that she was rolling it around in her head. She would tell him eventually, but it would likely be something they'd end up having to work through and it made him feel uncomfortable.

They ran through the scene once. They had one hug and one kiss in the scene and it felt like to him she was just going through the motions. He just didn't know why and he knew better than to pepper her with questions, not that she would answer them on set. It took four takes to get the scene the way the director wanted it. Deacon and Rayna were supposed to be tired, so the low key delivery was appropriate, but it somehow felt off. Connie was a pure professional and he knew it wouldn't show on screen, but he needed to talk to her. _They_ needed to talk.

She was walking off the set and he called after her. She turned and looked at him as he approached. "Is everything okay?" he asked, when he reached her, keeping his voice low.

She looked at him and then shrugged. "I don't know." She started to walk off and he grabbed her arm.

"Connie," he said, and she frowned at him, then gently pulled her arm away. "What's going on?" he asked. "Talk to me."

She hesitated, then sighed. "Okay." She continued to walk off set and he followed behind her until they got to her trailer. She surprised him by sitting on the top step, forcing him to sit on one of the steps below her. He hoped they weren't outside long, as it was a chilly, windy day. She hugged herself and tapped the heels of her boots on the step below her, leaning over slightly. "Jessie showed me the newspaper from over the weekend," she said.

He closed his eyes for a second. _Of course._ That article on the front page, of all places. "It wasn't a big deal, Connie," he said. "Patty arranged it. You know that. And it was all just about a first date." He knew he was kind of babbling, but he really didn't want her to make more of it than it was. Patty had scheduled it and there was no way around it. It was a Valentine's-themed article, running on Valentine's Day. It could have been worse though, or so he'd thought.

"It just sounded…cozy, or something."

"Cozy? It was just a recap. I couldn't very well be nasty about it."

She nodded, but didn't look at him. "I know. But…." She trailed off.

He held his breath. "But what?"

She looked up at him then, her eyes sad. "'I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I'm married to Deacon.'" He could hear the hurt in her tone. She hugged herself a little tighter, looking down at her feet.

His heart ached. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "But you know, it's one of those things. We've talked about this."

She looked up, her eyes a little steely. "I know we've talked about it, Chip, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. It doesn't mean it won't hurt to hear it. _She_ believes it's real, even if you say you don't."

He frowned. "I _don't_ believe it, Connie. I'm not just _saying_ it, I _mean_ it." He breathed out. "You know how I feel about you. And I'm sorry, baby. I don't wanna hurt you. You know that."

"But it still hurts, Chip." She bit down on her lip. "I know, you told me this would happen. It just doesn't mean that there isn't a little part of me that just wonders, you know? I mean, couldn't a little bit of it be true? Couldn't telling the story of your first date bring back some of that old feeling? Make you miss it?"

"I'd rather talk about my first date with _you_." He tried to smile. "How you were planning to cook dinner but your son wouldn't go to sleep and you were a little frazzled and we ended up eating Chinese takeout instead."

She stared at him, then finally gave him a tiny smile. "You think of that as a date?" she asked.

He smiled more broadly then. "I do. It was when I first thought maybe you liked me." He could see her shiver then.

She lifted her legs up one step and put her arms around them. "I did like you then," she said, with the hint of a smile. Then she took a deep breath and the smile faded. "I just need a minute, Chip," she said. "I mean, it hurts." She held her hand up when she saw he wanted to say something. "Sometimes our heart has a hard time listening to our head. And right now I need to work through that on my own. Can you understand that?"

He had this feeling of déjà vu, and not so much between the two of them, but how Chip and Connie's lives were so entangled with the lives of their characters. It was complicated and they were both complex people, just like Deacon and Rayna. It was simple, but it was not. As much as he wanted to put his arm around her and try to talk her through it, he knew he needed to give her the minute – or longer – that she needed to wrap her mind around the complexity of their lives.

He nodded. "Okay." He stood up then and she looked up at him. "I'm here. When you're ready." He put his hands in his pockets and hunched forward. "I love you," he said, his voice low.

He saw a warm light in her eyes then and a very tiny smile on her lips. "I know," she said.

He breathed in deeply and then he turned and walked away.

* * *

It was probably a good thing that he didn't have any more scenes to shoot that day. In fact, he had a writing appointment with Steve Mandile, his friend and member of the band that backed him up when he performed. He needed a creative outlet, something to focus on while he waited on her. As he drove, he thought about their conversation. Early in their relationship, talks like these left him feeling panicked. He would worry that she would walk away, that she would tell him she couldn't live her life this way. He still worried about it, truth be told. He supposed it was normal, in relationships like the one they had.

He felt a knot in his chest and pressure behind his nose and eyes, as though he wanted to cry. They never used the words 'affair' or 'mistress' or any of the other words that suggested this was something tawdry. There was an old song, from the 60's or 70's, that he couldn't quite remember the name of or the words to, about finding your true love when you were with someone else. Maybe he'd look for it sometime, but he wasn't sure it would make him feel better. But that was what this was. This was the love he'd always wanted – and thought he'd found back in college with Patty – only the timing was all wrong.

Maybe, he thought to himself, if they weren't people in the public eye, it would have been easier to figure out. But they were. What he didn't want to do was put her in a bad place, have people believe she was someone who would break up a marriage. She wasn't that person and he knew, although not being together was hard, she would never demand it. What he didn't know, for sure, is if she'd be able to wait it out. She'd been antsy, off and on, about the length of the seasons, the lack of time off to pursue other projects, the feeling of being tied to a role because of a contract. And maybe because of him.

He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut, a little bit. _Is she staying because of me? Is she putting up with this because of me?_ She'd been happier, the last few weeks, knowing that, even though the show was still a little over the top on drama-filled stories, Deacon and Rayna would have a storyline again together, and that was something she wanted to play. _They have such a rich history, you know? They've known each other practically all their lives and they can be real with each other. They don't have to pretend, because they've seen the worst of each other and they've been able to put the pieces back together._ He smiled a little to himself, because they were so much on the same page with that. And it felt, sometimes, like he and Connie were the same. They hadn't known each other forever, of course, but there was something between them, from the beginning, that made the complications worth dealing with.

When he got to Steve's, they spent some time working on a song they'd started the last time they'd gotten together, but he wasn't really feeling it and ended up working through some lyrics on his own. He used Steve as a sounding board as he jotted down words, reorganized them, started over, and finally started making some progress on the first verse.

"You thinking this is a ballad?" Steve asked.

He screwed up his face and thought about it. "It sounds like it, doesn't it?" Steve nodded. "I think I want it to be more raw than that, you know? Something I can pound on onstage. More energy."

"You can do that with the melody. Why don't you try something like that, see how it feels?"

He grabbed his guitar and started trying out different chord sequences, not sure if he wanted it to be more straight up country or a little more rock and roll. He finally got the energy he was looking for in the music and then tried the lyrics with it.

 _She's a wave in the moonlight  
She's a red stick of dynamite  
A warm fire on a cold night  
She's around, and I'm alright  
Where she is is where I wanna be  
I ain't nothing without my baby  
She's everything to me_

He looked at Steve. "How did that sound?"

Steve smiled. "I like it. You wanna keep working on it?"

He nodded. "I do. But I think this is one I want to write myself." It was a song for Connie, that he knew for sure. She's everything to me.

Steve nodded. "That's cool. I'm glad to hear it out with you. Then maybe we can get back to the other."

He grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

When he finally drove home, he had his song for Connie finished, plus the other one completed with Steve. Most of the melancholy that had settled on him as he'd driven away from the set had lifted. He'd finished two songs and was proud of them both, feeling reenergized and renewed. He and Connie had a scene to shoot in two days and it was one that would come towards the end of the episode, a quiet scene between Deacon and Rayna, where they came back together after a day filled with drama and frustration, much of it having to be handled without the other. But the scene had that sense of coming together and taking strength from each other, knowing that they were finally on the same path together. He was looking forward to doing it and he thought she was too.

* * *

He was sitting in Deacon's living room waiting for the next scene to set up. He looked up at the sound of footsteps to see Connie walk in. She sat on the coffee table and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped in front of her. "I feel like we should talk," she said.

He felt a quiver of anxiety. "That sounds like it's gonna be something I won't like."

She frowned. "Does it? I don't mean it that way."

He breathed in and rubbed his face, sitting forward. "You seemed unhappy the other day and it felt a little like you didn't really believe me. Actually, it felt a _lot_ like you didn't."

She looked surprised. "I _do_ believe you, Chip. I don't know why you don't know that. If I didn't believe you, I'd end this."

He sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

She sat back. "I want you to be with _me_." She looked down. "And that feels selfish. And like I'm putting pressure on you, which I am absolutely not." She looked back at him. "I never thought I'd live my life like this. Waiting. And I don't say that to hurt you or make you feel guilty." She raised up her shoulders, then lowered them with a sigh. "I was thinking the other night that I'm kind of like Deacon. I'm watching you live another life. And I know it's not exactly the same, but, as hard as it was, he waited. And as hard as it is, I will too."

He breathed in. "I'm the one who should feel selfish. I'm asking you to put your life on hold and I probably have no right to do that to you."

She raised her eyebrows and smiled a little. "I'm a big girl. I've got my eyes wide open." She smiled a little more. "If I didn't think this was the real deal, it would be easier." She leaned forward. "I mean, when I'm not with you or around you or I go too many days without seeing you, I feel empty. You're my best friend, Chip." She reached out and took his hand. "I wouldn't trade this for anything. Even if I don't have enough time with you, even if I take moments when I get them, even if the only time I have with you is here on the set – I wouldn't trade it."

He squeezed her hand and smiled. "I wouldn't either."

She slid her hand from his, knowing someone could walk up on them. "Why don't we go and do that lovely scene between Deacon and Rayna and just relax in it, because you're here and I'm here, and that's what matters."

* * *

He was sitting back on the couch on the set of Rayna's house, pretending he was asleep. He heard footsteps and opened his eyes, seeing her walk around, pulling her scarf from around her neck. She sat next to him and then curled into him, putting her head on his shoulder and her hands on his leg. He let his fingers tangle in her hair as they went through the scene. As he gazed into her eyes, it felt like the words they were saying meant more. And when she said 'thank you for today', he knew, by her expression, that it was more than Rayna thanking Deacon for handling the home front while she managed everything else. It was also Connie thanking Chip.

They were good. They could do this. They _would_ do this.

* * *

He found her sitting in Rayna's den and walked over. "Hey," he said. She looked up and smiled. "Mind if I join you?"

She gestured towards the place beside her. "Please do." She put her script down on the arm rest. "I was just looking through my notes on my next scene." He frowned, not sure which one she had coming up. "With Lennon." She rolled her eyes and smirked. "Being a _mom_." Then she laughed. "What's it like having teenage girls, especially when they start dating boys?"

He widened his eyes. "I have absolutely no idea," he said, with a teasing smile. "I didn't let my girls date boys. Still don't, actually."

She laughed again. "I don't believe that, which tells me you probably are worse at it than Rayna."

He laughed as well. "I think you're probably right about that." He pulled out his phone and ear buds. "So I got something I wanted you to listen to."

She looked intrigued. "Really? Something you wrote?" He nodded and she smiled. "For Rayna?"

He shrugged. "Could be. But I really wrote it for Connie."

She bit her lip gently. "Then I really do want to listen." He inserted the ear buds and handed one to her, putting the other in his ear. He watched her put the one he'd given her in her own ear, then opened up his phone and found the recording he'd made at Steve's. He hit play and watched her face as she listened.

 _She's a wave in the moonlight  
She's a red stick of dynamite  
A warm fire on a cold night  
She's around, and I'm alright  
Where she is is where I wanna be  
I ain't nothing without my baby  
She's everything to me_

 _She's a day in the sunshine  
A deep vein in a gold mine  
Ooh, she's so fine, so fine  
That's fine, she's all mine  
Where she is is where I wanna be  
I ain't nothing without my baby  
She's everything to me  
_  
 _Where she is is where I wanna be  
I ain't nothing without my baby  
No, I'm nothing without my baby  
There's just something about my baby  
That girl's everything  
Yeah, she's every little thing to me  
_  
 _I'm talking 'bout my baby, said that's where I wanna be  
Talking 'bout my girl, I ain't nothing without her  
Yeah, yeah _

When the song was over, she took out the ear bud and handed it back. "That's kind of different for you, isn't it?" she asked. "The melody, I mean."

He nodded. "Kind of. I just wanted a different kind of energy and a different sound."

She smiled and breathed in. "I can't even tell you how special it is to have you write songs for me. I keep imagining that it's the way Rayna feels when Deacon wrote for her, _about_ her. I feel like I don't deserve all that, but I'm so ridiculously happy that you do." She rubbed her hands on her thighs. "When did you write it?"

"After you told me you needed a minute," he said quietly.

She drew her leg up and shifted slightly so that she was facing towards him. "I don't want you to doubt how I feel about you," she said. "It wouldn't keep me awake at night or pull at my heart the way it does if I didn't love you." She kept her voice low. "You're everything to me, too," she said with a tiny smile. "Thank you for sharing it. Will you send it to me?"

He nodded. "I want to put them all together for you, burn 'em on a CD. The ones I wrote for you."

"I would love that." She looked around the set, then back at him. "How long are you here today?"

"I got a couple scenes with Hayden. Actually one in a few minutes, because the baby will be here."

She smiled. "Oh, you get to work with a baby?" He grinned and nodded. She laughed. "Better you than me then." She put her hand on his arm. "Can you stop by later? My trailer?"

He nodded. "Sure."

"Just wait for me if I'm not there."

He smiled. "Okay, I will." He stood up. "I gotta get going. See you later then." He walked off, looking forward to some time with her.

* * *

They were sitting on the bench in her trailer. She was curled into his side. "So, I'm worried," she said.

He frowned. "Worried about what?"

She looked up at him. "I'm worried that Rayna's not worried enough about Deacon's cancer. It feels like it's written like she just thinks everything's going to be fine and dandy, even though all they're doing is waiting for something to happen." She rubbed his leg with her hand. "I know you've been through that, as the person watching someone else go through that. Is her reaction normal?"

He thought about that. Addie's cancer had been different. There had been a plan and treatments, a feeling that they were proactively _doing_ something, and not just waiting. But Addie's situation hadn't been dire – not really – even though it was certainly scary. He breathed in. "I think it is. I think it's very Rayna for her to sort of put it into a box, put her will on it, I guess. Like if she puts it out in the universe, that a liver will appear."

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm pretty sure Rayna doesn't subscribe to the 'put it out in the universe' thing." He smiled. "I guess I keep going back to how she was all 'let's do this, let's call Vanderbilt, let's try that', when she first found out."

"Well, that's because Deacon was shutting her out and she was trying to be the take charge person she always was with the two of them. I think it's part of their DNA. Now that he's kind of let all that go and let her in, she doesn't have to be so forceful about it. But I'll bet it comes back around."

She reached for his hand, linking her fingers with his. "How did you feel, with your daughter?"

He took a deep breath. "It was scary. First, because it was cancer. Then, it was our daughter. And because she was so young, it felt like it could go all sideways or it could be fine, because she was so young and didn't have enough life experience to be scared."

She looked up at him again. "What did you do?"

He looked down at their hands together. "We tried to keep things as normal as possible. Tried not to go to the worst case scenario. Tried not to let our lives get consumed with it." He rubbed her fingers with his thumb. "We weren't so successful with that last part." She was quiet. He wasn't sure exactly how much to share with her. How much he _wanted_ to share with her. "It can be tough. It's easy to fall into a trap where you focus so much on pulling that person through it, that you lose everything else. I guess in some situations it pulls people closer together, fighting it together, leaning on each other. It didn't happen that way for me."

"I worry that Rayna will smother Deacon. But I hope she gives him the chance to deal with it himself. I did kind of like how they wrote the whole part where he walks out and she didn't go crazy on him, like she would have otherwise."

He looked back at her and smiled a little. "That's true. She was respectful and I think that helps him get okay with the idea that he can talk about it. It's easy not to be respectful."

She nodded. "Is that what happened? You know." She shrugged.

He rubbed his leg with his free hand. "Yeah. Part of it was that. And on both sides, to be fair. But it also just widened that crack that had already started. It's too easy, once you're parents, to let that define you, to change the dynamic."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you go through this stuff…with me."

He looked at her and shook his head. "Nah. I think it's good for you to know that it started a long time ago. I know I told you it didn't start with you. And it didn't. This has gone on a long time."

She raised her head up and he leaned in and kissed her. She reached up her hand to his cheek. "I know. But thank you for telling me." He kissed her again. "I love you, Chip."

"I love you too." She turned and sat on his lap, taking his face in her hands and kissing him, letting her lips linger on his, as he slid his arms around her waist. It felt good to be with her. It felt healing to be with her. He really didn't want to let her go and he tightened his arms around her.


	3. Chapter 3

Connie found him in craft services as he was getting coffee. She had a frustrated look on her face. "Have you got a few minutes?" she asked.

He frowned, unsure of what had brought this on. He nodded. "Yeah, sure." He stood where he was, thinking she would get some coffee and they would sit at one of the tables.

She looked around, then back up at him. "Can you meet me in my trailer?" She didn't look happy and he didn't like that look.

"I can do that," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You want me to bring you some coffee?"

She looked at the coffee station, then back at him. "Yeah, go ahead and bring me some. I'll see you there." She turned and walked off. He thought about the fact that she hadn't smiled once.

As he got her coffee and then followed in the same direction she had gone, he thought he might know what it was about. Today was the first day filming episode 20. They'd gotten it over the weekend and, as he had pored over it, the thing that had struck him most was that, outside of one flashback scene, he and Connie did not have any scenes together. It irked him, when he really thought about it, that Deacon and Rayna could be back together and yet carry on in such separate tracks.

When he got to her trailer, he knocked with the back of his hand. She opened the door and took the cup of coffee he offered to her and then turned away, leaving him to walk in behind her. "So what's up?" he asked.

She turned to face him. "We're not working together," she said. "And even worse is that the only time we do? We don't even speak to each other. It's just a look across the room." She set down the coffee, pacing back and forth, her arms waving wildly in the air. "Did you actually read those flashback scenes?" She looked at him pointedly.

"Uh, yeah," he said.

She made a face. "I won't even start down the road of how ridiculous it is for us to play basically teenagers. No more weird, I suppose, than us playing ourselves in our twenties. But they're actually rewriting our backstory. Did you realize that?"

"They are?" He had to admit that she was more protective of their characters' history, always wanting it to make sense with the way the story had started. It had annoyed her when it had been written that she had not lived with Deacon in his house, after having made such a big deal in the scene where they talked about songwriting there. He guessed he should have cared more about those things, but he figured it was a guy thing that he didn't.

She frowned at him. "Good lord, yes. It's like they forgot all about the little detail that Deacon wrote a song for Rayna the first time he watched her perform. And that he was there when she got kicked out of the house. I just think they're being lazy." She crossed her arms. "You know how much I _hate_ this kind of thing."

He walked over and put his arms around her. After a moment, she relaxed enough to slide her arms around him and lean her head on his shoulder. "We have to play it the way they write it, you know?" He leaned his cheek against her head. "I'm a little freaked out that I've got to shave for those flashback scenes, you know?"

She didn't say anything, but then he felt her laughing silently. Then she lightly smacked him on the chest and looked up at him, a smile crossing her face. "But it's all wrong, Chip, you know that." She grinned then, a sparkle in her eyes. "You're just not gonna let me get all righteously indignant, are you?"

He smiled back at her. "Not if I can help it," he said. She took his hand and gave him a little come on look over her shoulder, as she led him to the bench and they sat. She curled up next to him and draped one leg over his.

"I wish I could be more, I don't know, go with the flow about it. Like you are." She lifted her arm and put it on his shoulder, rubbing his cheek with her finger. "You just don't let things get to you."

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "That's not true. I can get worked up with the best of 'em."

She smiled, then leaned in and brushed her lips against his, letting her fingers thread themselves into his hair. "You're good for me, you know that?" she said.

He took her hand in his. "You're good for me," he responded. He smiled. "I do like how Rayna's going toe to toe with Beverly for Deacon."

She shrugged. "Well, you know, she'll fight for him until the end of days." She looked down at their hands. "I'm wondering if we'll be renewed this time around." She looked back at him.

That had hit him right in the heart. "Are you thinking we won't?" he asked.

She shrugged again. "I don't know. It's been a tough year, with Hayden out for a bit and some pretty crazy storylines." She gave him a side-eyed look. "The third year is the bell weather year."

He frowned. "The what?"

"It's kind of fish or cut bait. If you don't think a show's in for the long haul, you let it go after three seasons. They were going to do that on _Friday Night Lights_. But we came back with that crazy deal and then shorter seasons, which was a blessing, to be honest." She let her fingers stroke his neck. "What would you do if they cancelled us?"

He didn't really like the sound of that. This had been a great job. It had afforded him unbelievable opportunities musically, opportunities he wasn't sure he'd have had anywhere else or in any other situation. It was a lead role, and a meaty one at that, stretching him creatively in ways he'd never had the chance for before. It was a marriage of the two things he enjoyed most – music and acting. It was the perfect role. He looked at her. And of course, there was Connie. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't know. I don't really want to think like that."

"Would you pursue music?"

He nodded. "I would. I'd still want acting jobs though. It's what I know and I think I'm good at it."

She smiled. "You're _very_ good at it."

"So what would _you_ do?"

She looked away. "I don't know," she said, sounding a little pensive. "You know, I like to really stretch myself creatively." She bit her lip and looked at him. "In my perfect world, I'd dabble in this and dabble in that. I would never commit to a long form series again, I don't think. I really like what they do in cable, where they have short seasons, no more than thirteen episodes, and usually less than that. But no long commitment. I'd do a season, maybe two, but probably not. Take supporting roles that are fun and interesting. Do neat indie movies with people I like working with." She rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd want to still get involved in the things I believe in – women's rights, the environment, children and families, education, that kind of thing. Make a difference, if I could." She leaned her chin on his shoulder. "The one thing I have trouble reconciling though is you."

He swallowed. "How so?"

She sighed. "Well, you know, doing this, being here, it means I get to be with you. Even when that's hard and complicated and emotionally draining, I know we're in it together." He didn't want to think about the show being over, but he did like the fact that the idea of it gave her pause. He also liked how she felt, tucked into him, her hand stroking his face, her fingers threading his hair. She let her lips brush his cheek. "That's worth something, right?" she murmured in his ear.

He let his hand move up to cup her breast, letting his thumb rub over her nipple through the material of her blouse and bra. He was rewarded with both the little noise she made in the back of her throat and the tightening of her nipple. "It's worth everything," he said, as he captured her lips with his.

* * *

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and he'd been able to slip away by himself. He and Connie had met at the river. She brought Yoby and the three of them had enjoyed playing in the water. Yoby finally had fallen asleep in his mom's arms, as they sat on the river bank and talked. They would be starting the next to the last episode of the season midweek. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Such a nice day," she said.

He nodded. "Yep."

"Did you arrange for some studio time for us?" They would be doing a duet in the upcoming episode, something he was looking forward to. It had been a while since they had.

"Monday afternoon."

"I've been working with my vocal coach, so I'm feeling pretty good about it." She lifted her head and turned and smiled at him. "I think it's really the perfect song for them. And I'm glad Deacon is finally admitting every song he writes is for her."

He chuckled. "Like there was any doubt." It was a quiet episode, really. A lot of emotional scenes, as Beverly finally showed up for Deacon and he and Rayna finally got to breathe easier, knowing Deacon would get his transplant.

"Deacon will survive, right?" she asked.

He frowned a little. "You don't know?"

She gave him a teasing look. "I can't imagine that he wouldn't," she said. "That _you_ wouldn't." Yoby shifted in her arms and she looked down at him, but he settled back down without even opening his eyes. "He's such a heavy sleeper," she said.

He smiled. "Taylor was like that. Still is, I guess. That girl could fall asleep on a dime and then she was like dead weight when you tried to pick her up."

"I sure wish I could sleep like that." She leaned her head back on his shoulder. He couldn't help but feel a little ache in his heart that they couldn't do this all the time. It was one of those times when he found himself wondering if he should just make the break. But every time he thought about it, his mind dredged up what felt like a hundred potential issues and he would lose his nerve. "When does your tour start?" Her question brought him out of his musing.

"We start rehearsing as soon as we finish filming." He looked down at the top of her head. "There's still time to decide to come out with us," he said, smiling to himself.

"Ha! That won't happen. Maybe I'll come see y'all in LA though." He knew she wouldn't though. Patty was coming along on the tour. "What will you do this summer?"

He took a deep breath. "Oh, I don't know. Work on my music. Clare and I are doing some shows. Beach week. What about you?"

"Some down time, I think. I've got that OJ thing I'm doing, but that's just a few days of filming really. Yoby and I are going to Africa. I'm really excited about that. I want to do that for him, especially now that he can be more aware that it's where he comes from." Just then Yoby stirred, as though he knew she was talking about him. She smiled down at him. "Hey there, Mr. Yobes. How'd you sleep?"

Yoby shrugged. "Okay." He got up from Connie's lap and stretched. "I'm hungry, Mom."

"You are?" Yoby nodded seriously. "Okay, then, I guess we need to get home then." She turned to look at him. "I guess we need to go." She gave him a hopeful look.

He pushed up and then reached for her hand, pulling her up from the ground. "I gotta get back too. Got some things going on tonight."

She nodded and looked away. "Okay." She reached for Yoby's hand. "Let's go, Mr. Man."

The three of them turned and headed back down the trail to where they'd parked. After she had Yoby settled in the back seat, he walked her around to the driver's side. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her hands on his upper arms, arching her back slightly so that she was tipped towards him. "I'll see you Monday," he said. "I got us booked at one."

She nodded. "Sounds good." She raised up on her toes and planted her lips on his. "I love you. You know that, right?"

He smiled. "'Course I do. I love you too." He pulled her closer and kissed her again, forcing her lips apart, invading her mouth with his tongue. She responded to him, kissing him back hungrily, letting her hands drift up and wrap around his neck. He slid his hands down around her ass, pressing her against him. She moaned deep in the back of her throat, then pulled her lips from his, looking up at him with a lazy smile on her face. "I love feeling _that_ ," she said, softly. "Could I have a raincheck on taking care of that until Monday?"

He smiled down at her, then kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll give you that raincheck, but I'll be dreaming about it until then."

She put her hand on his cheek. "I will too." She stepped out of his arms then, almost reluctantly, glancing down at his crotch, running her tongue along her lower lip. "Until Monday." She raised her hand in a wave, then turned and got in her car.

He stood and watched her until her car disappeared, as much because he couldn't move as because he just wanted to watch her. He rubbed his face with his hands, breathing in and out deeply. He couldn't wait until Monday.

* * *

He had thought it would be a good idea to practice the duet they would sing before they were scheduled for the studio. Connie still, after all this time, got nervous about singing, even in the studio. He admired her bravery in doing something that basically terrified her every time she did it. He always told her she did a fantastic job at it, but the truth was, she needed more support than the rest of them. It wasn't a lack of talent, but it seemed to be maybe the one thing about herself she didn't have abundant confidence in.

He got to the studio early, bringing one of his guitars with him. The song would be one that Deacon and Rayna had supposedly written back when they were still writing songs together, back when _they_ were together. He knew they would talk it through, figuring out a backstory for it, the way they always did. As he did for most of their duets, he'd done the arrangements, so he wanted to be able to work that through with her, so that she'd feel as ease when they recorded it.

He made sure the guitar was tuned, then looked at the music sheet and practiced the chords. He'd left the door open and so he heard her footsteps coming down the hallway, much like the lyrics of the song. When she walked in the door, he looked up and she smiled at him. "I could hear you," she said. "Sounded great." She set her purse and keys down on a chair and then walked over to sit next to him. "I went over the lyrics this morning. I think they wrote it when he came back from rehab one of those times. Maybe the last time before she kicked him out for good. She knew he was in her blood and she couldn't get him out. It was how she knew he was her one true love."

He grinned. "I was thinking the same thing. He couldn't really let her go, because she was just always there and he depended on her. It was that once in a lifetime kinda thing. They couldn't let each other go, no matter what." He breathed out. "I think it's what she told him after she broke up with Luke. They'd put each other through hell, but loved each other anyway. No matter what they do to each other, that just doesn't go away."

She nodded. "And now she's facing the idea that he's going to leave her again, only this time it's for good. And instead of pulling into herself and hiding all those emotions like she normally would, she's just gonna live in it. She loves this man with her whole heart and she'll love him til the very end."

"And he's just grateful to have her walk beside him, be there for the most terrifying thing he's ever faced in his life." He thought about that for a minute. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to know you're gonna die, to just be waiting for it to happen, how terrifying that would be." He looked at her. "I think maybe, knowing Deacon, his instinct is to spare her that, because of all the other things he'd done to her. But what he really wants, more than anything, is to have her close, because he needs her to hang on to, for however long he has."

Her eyes were glistening with tears. "It's just so impossible for them," she said, her voice soft. "I know Rayna has to feel so guilty for waiting so long, for putting all those obstacles in between them. Teddy, then Luke, lying to him about their daughter. To be that person who knows that his or her own stubbornness caused that to happen. How heartbreaking." He reached out and rubbed away a stray tear that had rolled down her cheek. She smiled. "It's a beautiful song about the deep love they have for each other and just not getting in the way of that."

He reached for her hand and squeezed it, much like Deacon had done back in the second episode of the first season, at the Bluebird. "Why don't we run through it?" She nodded. He started the intro, then turned to her. "You haunt me when I fall asleep / You're in every breath I breathe / I still hear your footsteps down the hall…."

She smiled and finished the verse. "And I keep trying to pretend / This ache for you is gonna end / But I know better than that now…."

* * *

He followed her to her house, pulling into the garage after her. She met him at the door and took his hand, leading him inside and up the stairs. She laid her purse and keys on the counter, then walked into his embrace. "I actually enjoyed that today," she murmured into his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close, his chin on the top of her head. "You were great," he said. "As always."

She laughed and looked up at him. "You are such a liar," she said, with a grin. "But a really handsome liar."

He grinned. "I would _never_ lie. Not to you."

She gave him a look. Then she took his hand. "Yoby gets home at five, so…."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you have some specific _needs_ you want taken care of?" he asked.

He saw a little pink on the top of her cheekbones and she bit down on her lip. "Chip," she whispered. She reached out and stroked him between his legs and he choked back a groan as he felt himself respond immediately. "Let's go," she said.

He chased her upstairs and into her bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, as he pulled her in close, rubbing against her. "Oh, God, baby, I can't wait," he murmured against her lips. He pushed her against the wall and reached up under the sundress she was wearing, slipping his fingers inside her panties. She moaned and pressed herself against his hand. He slid two fingers inside her and she moaned again. He pulled his lips from hers and gazed into her eyes, dark with desire. "You like that?" he whispered and she nodded. He swirled his fingers inside her and she moved her hips in rhythm, as her fingers started to frantically work on his belt and then his zipper.

When she had finished with his pants, he turned her to face the wall and, after ripping off her panties, buried himself inside her, thrusting in and out quickly. He wasn't sure he could wait for her, so great was his own need, but as he pushed deep inside her one last time, shouting out, "Oh, God!" he felt her clench him tight and then let go herself, moaning over and over. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned against her back as they both caught their breath. He buried his face against her neck, kissing the tender place behind her ear and she moaned in appreciation. "God, I love you," he murmured in her ear.

She laughed softly. "I love you too." She turned in his arms and smiled up at him. "Maybe we can move over there now," she said, nodding towards the bed.

He turned and looked over his shoulder, then back down at her, a smile on his face. "It _would_ be more comfortable, wouldn't it?" he said, with a chuckle.

She raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Oh, yeah." He stepped back and took her hand, leading her to the side of the bed, where he undressed her, dropping her clothes on the floor, and then she did the same to him. Then they crawled into the bed and he let her fingers and her lips do their magic on him again.

* * *

He had his arms around her. Her head was on his chest, one hand on his shoulder. He let his fingers run through her hair and he sighed. This felt like heaven, just laying quietly with her, skin against skin, feeling her breathing and her heart beating against his body. Her skin felt like velvet, everywhere it touched his. Against his side, his chest, his legs. Sometimes he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her, to be the man making love to her, to be the man she said 'I love you' to. He held her a little tighter and she raised her head up and turned to look at him.

"You okay?" she asked, a little worry in her eyes.

He nodded. "Just thinking." Her eyes got a questioning look in them. "How lucky I am," he said, in answer. "Getting _this_ job, so that I met you. Having you feel the same about me that I felt about you. Just the chance of it all. How things fall into place. When you walk in somewhere, with no expectations, and your whole world gets turned on its edge."

A soft smile crossed her face and she let her fingers drift over his cheek and chin. "Life's funny sometimes. When you're just living it and then, I don't know, magic happens, or something." Her eyes sparkled. "Magic," she repeated. "Star-crossed, I guess. Your one true love." She bit her lip then, a little cloud seeming to drop over her gaze, and her smiled faded. He knew what she was thinking.

He pushed her hair back. "It's still that. Just more twists and turns."

She shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Somehow it just feels like it should be easier."

"The rivers between us are deep," he sang to her. "And dark as the secrets we keep." She smiled a little. "We can do this, baby."

She let her fingers graze over his cheek. "You're not the only lucky one, you know," she said, with a shy smile. "I never thought this would happen to _me_. I thought maybe I was past that big, bold love affair kind of thing. The grand gestures and the big emotions, that feeling that you just can't stop the tide. That you just have to let it take you where it wants to go." She slid up a little on his chest and kissed him. "I heard Garth Brooks say something about Trisha Yearwood once, after they got married. That she was the one his soul was waiting for. I think maybe they went through some of this too, hiding in the shadows, waiting for it to be the right time. I have to believe it's the same for us."

He felt tears in his eyes. "I think you're right, baby," he said, and then he pulled her close. "I know I've gotta go soon, so just one more time." His lips found hers and he rolled her onto her back.

* * *

The wrap party was at Hard Rock Café, the night after they'd finished filming. It had been a classic cliffhanger – Beverly and Deacon both in surgery, the sound of someone flatlining and the frantic efforts to save whoever the unlucky soul was, and then the doctor's ominous words to Rayna. While he had been assured, back when the storyline was first pitched to him, that Deacon was not in danger of dying, he also knew it wasn't unusual for certain storyline elements to be revised along the way. He'd learned by experience never to be too comfortable, never to make assumptions. He knew Deacon was a popular character, arguably at least as popular as the two female leads. He knew _Chip_ was popular, as evidenced by the reactions of fans whenever he performed and the increasing participation in his Light the Night weekends. But he wouldn't relax completely until he had that season 4 premiere script in his hands and saw himself in it. _If_ there was a season 4. That was still an unknown.

He was waiting in the kitchen for Patty. It would have been nice not to have had to bring her, but families were included, so it would have been hard not to. The good news was that Addie was going as well and she was waiting in the den. He picked up his phone. _You still planning to be there tonight?_

He waited. Connie had been waffling on attending. She'd make some vague excuse about Yoby, but he knew it was more that she didn't want the uncomfortable vibe with Patty there. He felt like she would show up, if only for a short time, out of respect to the rest of the cast. Even though she didn't participate in performances the rest of the cast did, she was always supportive of her coworkers. His phone vibrated. _Yes, for a bit. Yoby's not feeling well, so I don't want to stay too long._

 _Really?_

 _Stop. I'll see you there._

"Who's that?" He looked up. Patty was standing at the end of the island, frowning.

"Nobody," he said, shaking his head. He slid his phone in his pocket and turned towards the den. "Addie, you ready?"

* * *

She showed up about forty-five minutes after the party started. He saw her walk in. As always, he felt his heart beat a little faster when he saw her. She looked pretty, in dark pants and a pretty white blouse, her hair in soft waves down her back and across her shoulders. She looked stunning. She walked over to Callie and T-Bone and was talking to them. He glanced around the room and saw Patty and Addie talking to Brad and MaryLynne Stella. He edged over towards Connie, catching her eye. She finished whatever she was saying to Callie and T-Bone and then lifted her hand in a wave. She walked over to stand next to him at the buffet table. "Hey," she said. "You by yourself?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "No." He glanced over his shoulder. Patty was still occupied. He looked back at Connie. "How's Yoby?"

She made a face. "He really is sick. Has a little fever. I'm not staying long."

He nodded. "When are you leaving?"

"I might stay an hour or so."

He shook his head. "I mean, leaving Nashville."

"Oh. We're flying out on Tuesday. Hopefully he's feeling better by then." She put her hand on his arm. "However it plays out, I think we had a decent season." She smiled. "I know you'll be back, but I heard you're going to have to lay low once the finale airs."

He smiled. "Kind of. I can't talk about it, for sure." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Patty glance his way and frown. "She's getting ready to walk over here."

She nodded. "Okay. Listen, we'll talk over the summer. Have a good tour. I want to hear all about it." She squeezed his arm and then kissed him on the cheek. Then she smiled and rubbed at the lipstick mark with her thumb. He could see Patty's face get angrier when she saw that. Connie rubbed his arm. "See you later." She walked off just as Patty reached his side.

"What was that about?" she said, her tone snarky.

He looked down at her. Connie had told him recently that he should not take the bait, that he should be pleasant. He took a deep breath and gave Patty a small smile. "She was just wishing me luck on the tour," he said, and then he turned and walked in the opposite direction, towards the bar.

 _A/N: Just a quick acknowledgement that I don't know that I have the wrap party details completely correct. I'm pretty sure that was the year the party was at HRC, but I'm not positive. I'm also not sure at all that Patty and Addie were there, but that was my little add for drama's sake. Thanks to all of you who've left reviews and let me know how much you are enjoying this guilty little pleasure along with me. I'm having the most fun!_


	4. Chapter 4

He had developed a love-hate relationship with summer hiatus. On the one hand, it was nice to take a break. Their filming schedule was long and arduous, with script changes happening often on the fly, requiring long nights and occasional Saturdays. He loved the family week at the beach. And the opportunity to perform for the fans was amazing. Each year, the tour that Steve Buchanan and his team put together for them got longer and more professional. They were playing in step up venues, theaters and small arenas. The shows were mostly sold out, packed with fans anxious to see their favorites performing songs from the show. That they were also getting to do some of their own work was a plus. He was also starting to get some extra shows, either on his own or with Clare.

What he hated, though, was the time without Connie. It made the weeks and months feel long and relentless. At every stop along the cast tour, he made time to call her, even for just a few minutes. She was getting ready for filming to start on the OJ Simpson mini-series she was doing. Her part was small, but she was excited, and nervous, about the opportunity to play a real person. The news about renewal came the day before the San Francisco tour stop. They were surprisingly one of the first group of shows to be renewed.

He was able to steal a little time while Patty went and did some shopping. "Hey, baby," he said, when she answered. "Good news today, huh?"

"Yeah, it was. I guess we'll see Deacon survive after all."

"I'm not complaining," he said, with a smile. "How do you feel about it?"

"Well, you know." He could picture her sitting there, making a face, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm nervous about the storylines."

"I'm sure Deacon and Rayna will get married, don't you think? Finally?"

"I do. But I'm also afraid they'll try to pull them apart right away. I don't think they understand the concept of a happily married couple. Look what they've done with Juliette and Avery. And Gunnar and Scarlett. They've just created drama for the sake of drama and I'm nervous. I did speak to Callie a bit about it."

That was a surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I think she feels like her vision isn't there anymore, but she won't really say so out loud. Dee's running the show, literally and figuratively, and I can sense more over the top nonsense." She sighed. "I didn't sign on for a soap opera, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it." She'd sounded more disenchanted the last few months and it worried him. He thought she was hoping the show wouldn't get renewed, that it would make her choice for her. It worried him to think about what could happen if the storylines got soapier or more overly dramatic. He wasn't so blind that he didn't recognize that a lot about the show had changed over the three years, but he tried hard to be a cheerleader for the show. Actually it wasn't that hard to do – it was truly the best job he'd ever had. He'd been lucky that his storylines had stretched him, given him good meat to chew on. But he also understood her ambivalence.

"When do you go to the beach?" she asked, bringing him back.

"Week of the 4th, why?"

"I'll be in Nashville in June, for a few days, flying in on the 15th. Doing an event for Megan." Megan Barry was running for mayor and Connie had been excited about her candidacy, sending out messages of support whenever she could. "I'm hoping you'll be around."

He grinned. "I'll be sure to be around. So, what were you thinking?"

"Well, you know, maybe you could come over or something. I will have missed you a _lot_ by then. Like maybe getting a little crazy lots." She giggled.

"How about getting a _lot_ crazy," he said, with a chuckle. "Like some hot and sweaty lovin', making you scream kind of thing."

"Mmm," she murmured. "I think I'd like that."

"You want it a little rough, baby?" he asked, his voice low. He could feel himself getting aroused, just thinking about it. He heard her make a little noise. "That got you hot, baby?" he asked, letting his hand cradle his crotch. "Got you turned on a little?"

"A lot," she whispered. "I want to…." Just then he heard Yoby call out for her. "Oh, dear God," she groaned. "I have to pull myself together."

He couldn't help but smile, even if it did cut short a pleasant interlude of phone sex. "Take a few deep breaths and then you'll be okay," he said, knowing it would take a little more than that for him.

He heard her breathing on the other end of the phone. "Okay, then." She cleared her throat. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby," he said. "I'll call you tomorrow." He leaned back in the chair, propping his feet on the coffee table and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, letting himself relax.

* * *

He reached in his back pocket for his phone when it buzzed. _I wish I could be there tonight._

He smiled. He was walking across the plaza from the hotel to the venue for sound check. It was a little surreal to think she wasn't that far away, that they were in the same city, just not able to see each other. He stopped and typed out a response. _Me too. On my way to sound check. Sure you don't want to join us?_

 _LOL. No. Have a good show._

 _Love you._

 _Love you too._

He smiled and then put his phone back in his pocket. He was already counting the days until June 15th.

* * *

He hurried up the steps to the front porch and knocked on the door. After a moment, Connie opened the door. "Hey," she said, with a smile. He stepped into the foyer and she closed the door. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

"I'm glad you're here, even if it is just for a couple days," he said.

Just then Yoby came running around the corner, a huge smile on his face. "Chip!" he shouted.

He grinned at the little boy. "Yobes, my man," he said, as Yoby ran towards him and threw himself in his arms. He picked Yoby up, settling him on his hip. "How you doing, buddy?" he asked.

Yoby was squirming, full of energy, as always, and so he set him back down on the floor. "Great!" he shouted, raising his arms up and flexing his muscles. He grinned at Connie and they both laughed.

"You're looking strong," he said, looking back at Yoby.

"I am! Come see!" And then he was off, running back towards the den.

Connie looked at him and smiled. "He's reunited with his little jeep and he keeps lifting it up, like it's the heaviest thing ever."

He chuckled. "I can imagine…."

"Chip!" Yoby shouted.

He raised an eyebrow at her as she laughed. "I guess you're being summoned," she said.

"I guess I am." He put his arm around her waist and pulled her in for another quick kiss, then walked around to the den. Yoby was waiting and when he saw him, he reached under the front of the child-sized jeep and lifted it a couple inches off the floor.

"See?" he shouted, looking like he was straining with effort. It was all he could do to keep from chuckling.

"I see," he said, nodding solemnly. "Very strong."

Connie walked over to her son. "Okay, Yoby, put it down before you strain your muscles, okay?" She smiled at him and Yoby lowered the little jeep to the floor. She held her hand out. "We're going to walk over to Violet's, okay?"

"Yes!" Yoby yelled, jumping up and down. He grabbed Connie's hand, then looked back over his shoulder. "Bye, Chip! See you later, alligator!"

He laughed. "In a while, crocodile."

Connie looked at him and shook her head, a bemused look on her face. "I'll be back in a minute," she said.

"I'll be waiting."

She led Yoby out through the kitchen and he walked over to the breakfast area and watched the two of them walk across the yard to Jessie and Nathan's house. He smiled to himself as he saw her looking down at her son as they talked. He remembered the first time he met Yoby, when they had first started filming the show, and thinking that Connie was awfully brave to be raising a child on her own, and especially a son, without a partner.

She had told him often that it scared her sometimes, to think about raising a child alone. It had never been the plan, but as life would have it, it became her plan. Being a mom, raising a child to be a contributing member of society, was something that had always been important to her. She'd told him more than once that it worried her, as he got older, that he didn't have a dad in his life, someone who could tell him those 'manly things'. He smiled again as he thought about that.

" _What kind of manly things do you mean?" he asked. "Like hunting and fishing?" He smirked at her._

 _She swatted his arm. "Stop it," she said, with a laugh. "I don't know that I want him to go hunting and fishing. But, you know, how to toss a baseball or a football. Although I don't know if I want him playing football. That seems dangerous." He smiled at her. "But someone for him to watch sports with and, maybe yes, go fishing with, and do guy things. You know." She bumped his arm. "Don't you do guy things with your son?"_

 _He breathed in. "Yeah, I guess I do. Sports, for sure. Hiking. And we talk about stuff, about things that sons have questions about. Dating, school, what to be when he grows up."_

" _You have different conversations with him than with your daughters, right?"_

 _He shrugged. "I guess I do." He looked at her. "You'll be fine. And you'll find people to help you with those conversations."_

He remembered thinking, at the time, that maybe he'd get to be the one to have those conversations with Yoby one day. He still wanted that. He felt a little tightness in his chest then, thinking about the fact that he and Connie were past the age where they could have a family of their own. If they did end up together – and he still preferred to believe that was their endgame – he would never see her pregnant with a child of theirs. They could be parents to his kids and to hers, but that would be something they would miss. He wondered how she felt about that, if she was sad not to have had that chance.

"What are you thinking about?" He looked up to see her standing at the kitchen door. He'd been caught up in his own thoughts and hadn't seen her walk back across the yard.

He smiled a little sheepishly. "You," he said.

She walked over and put her hands on his cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. "I'm glad to hear that," she murmured. "I've missed you."

He put his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. "I've missed you too." He kissed her on the forehead. "How long you here for?"

"We're flying to Mexico Wednesday, taking a vacation with some girlfriends."

"When will you be back here?"

"Middle of July."

He slid his hands up to her shoulders, kneading them a bit. "You feeling better about things?"

She looked up at him. "You mean the show?" He nodded. She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm still conflicted, I think. But we'll see how it goes." She put her hands on his back and ran them up and down, then smiled. "Let's go finish what we started on the phone."

He grinned. "I like that idea." He let her lead him up the stairs and down the hall.

* * *

She pushed him back on the bed and then straddled him. She put her hands on either side of his shoulders and leaned over him, kissing him lightly on the lips. He put his hands on her hips and started to press her closer to him, but she pushed back. She lifted one hand and waved her index finger back and forth. "Oh, no," she said, with a sly grin. "Not yet." He bit his lip to keep from grinning.

She leaned forward to kiss him again, then trailed her lips down his neck and over to one shoulder. She slid back just a little and trailed her mouth down his chest, sliding farther down as she went. He closed his eyes, just concentrating on her lips, as she placed kisses on his chest, his abdomen and then on his upper thigh. When her hair brushed over him, he tensed and held his breath. It felt almost like angel wings and he could feel himself getting rock hard. She kissed his inner thigh and he moaned. She moved to kiss the other and that's when he felt her fingers lightly brush over him. He moaned again.

"You're nice and hard," she murmured softly. She let her fingers glide up and down, ever so lightly, like butterfly wings. "Do you like that?" she asked.

"Yes," he muttered, his teeth clenched. He felt like he was going to explode. Then he felt her tongue swipe over him and he groaned loudly. "Oh, God, Connie," he growled. Just when he thought he couldn't get any harder, he felt her take him in her mouth. He tried to breathe in and out slowly, hoping to last as long as he could, but she was definitely taking him close to the edge. When he felt her tongue swivel around him, he reached for her hands. "Baby," he groaned. She stopped. He breathed out slowly. She pulled her mouth from him, her tongue giving him a long, languid lick. He shuddered.

"You like that?" she asked. He nodded, not able to say a word. She raised up and slid forward. "Well, I'm ready for you to be inside me now. That okay?" He nodded again. As he looked up at her, he thought surely she was a goddess. A beautiful, sexy, sensual goddess. She moved again so that she was poised over him, then took him in her hand and slid down over him. He closed his eyes again, letting out a satisfied moan. "I've missed this," she whispered, and he opened his eyes to look at her. There was a light flush spreading across her chest. Her nipples looked hard and he reached up and took one between his thumb and index finger to confirm. She made a little noise and pressed his hand against her breast, as her hips started to move. He reached up and cupped her other breast and watched as she tilted her head back, a look of bliss on her face.

Almost without warning, he came, crying out with the suddenness of it. When it was over, he knew she hadn't, and so he pulled her down next to him, covering her lips with his own, and slid two fingers inside her, feeling her taking him in gratefully. She rocked her hips against his hand, kissing him hungrily. He felt her clenching his fingers inside her and heard the little noises she made deep in her throat, and then finally she came and he just held her as she nestled her head into his shoulder and made little sounds of satisfaction. He held her closer, pressing his lips against the top of her head.

After a bit, she let out a long, satisfied sigh, and rolled onto her back. He propped himself up and looked down at her, her hair spread out on the pillow around her, a soft smile on her face, the top of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose slightly pink. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her smile turning into a grin. "Oh, wow, that was fantastic," she said, then laughed. She reached up and let her fingers scratch his beard. " _You_ were fantastic."

He smiled. "No, baby, _you_ were fantastic. I just went along for the ride."

She laughed again. "So, I'm thirsty. Want something to drink?"

He nodded. "Sure."

She rolled away from him and out of bed. She slipped on a robe that hit her mid-thigh and then walked around the bed towards the door. "I'll see you downstairs," she said, looking over her shoulder. Then she ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back over her shoulder and walked out. He breathed in deeply, just happy to be with her, and then got up too, pulling on his boxers and his t-shirt and heading after her.

When he rounded the stairs and walked into the kitchen, she was standing at the island with two tumblers and was pouring whiskey. He leaned against the counter and watched. "What kind is that?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "Booker's. Nathan gave me a bottle." He went to reach for a glass but she pushed his hand away. "I was told to add a splash or two of distilled water, to bring out the taste." She reached for a bottle and added the water, then picked up a glass and handed it to him, lifting the other for herself. They tapped their glasses and he took a sip. It was definitely potent, he could tell that right away, but smooth and just a touch sweet.

He smiled. "That's really good," he said.

She took a sip, then held up a finger. "You can only have one. It's pretty strong and you're gonna be driving, so…."

He took another sip. "I'm thinking this might become my favorite," he said.

She nodded, smiling. "It is good, isn't it?"

He grinned and then put an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Let me kiss those whiskey lips," he said, with a chuckle, and kissed her. He heard the clink of glass against counter and then her arms were around his waist and she was kissing him back fervently.

When they came up for air, she smiled up at him and rubbed his ass. "You have a little more time?" she asked.

He put his arm around her shoulders and laughed. "Boy, do I ever," he said.

* * *

The beach week had been a good one so far. The family was spread out over four houses, the weather had been fantastic, the beer and wine and spirits had flowed freely, and there had been lots of laughs and good times. It was a nice break from the routine and he felt relaxed, all things considered. He'd done some writing while he was there, but it was mostly laid out as a week to just enjoy sun, surf, good food, and family. They'd been coming for years, since the kids were young. When they were still living in California, it had been quite an ordeal to pack up a family of five and get them across the country, but now that they were in Nashville, it was easier. The kids were older too, which meant there weren't as many stops along the way or fights or whining.

It was early in the morning and he sat out on the porch on the main floor of the house, watching the sun rise over the ocean. Most everyone was asleep this early and so it was peaceful and quiet. He was drinking coffee and reading a book, Blue lying on the floor beside him. He heard the door open behind him and Blue jumped up, tail wagging. He looked up and over and saw Patty walk out. Blue ran to her and she greeted the dog with a hug and a pat on the head, then walked over to the railing and leaned on it with her coffee. He went back to his book.

"We've been lucky with the weather this time," she said, breaking the silence.

He looked up. "Yeah, we have," he said, then looked back down at the book.

"I wonder sometimes how much longer we'll do this," she said then.

He looked up again and frowned. She was still standing at the railing, looking out over the beach. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

She turned then and walked over, sitting in the chair on the other side of the side table next to him. She shrugged. "The kids are getting older. Chase will be off to college, then it's Addie's turn. Maybe they won't want to do this. They'll have other things they want to do."

He wasn't sure where this was coming from. "I guess we'll see."

She looked at him then. " _Our_ lives will change." He just breathed in. She bit down on her lip, then looked back out towards the ocean. "When did things change?" she asked, her voice quiet.

He didn't want to argue. Things between them had been peaceful for the last several months and he didn't really want to upset that. "A long time ago," he said finally, keeping his voice neutral.

"Do you ever wonder exactly what went wrong?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. It was a funny thing – he knew _when_ it had happened, but not exactly _what_ caused it. Was it the stress? The uncertainty? That going through what they went through just exposed the holes in the fabric of their relationship? Sometimes he thought it was simply that they had been too young. They hadn't necessarily thought so at the time. He'd thought that waiting several years to actually get married had meant they had what it took for the long haul. And yet they hadn't. "I don't know," he said. "I really don't." And he knew that was true. He looked over at her. "Sometimes things just change. We don't know why. There's no one thing. It's a combination of things. It just happens."

"Maybe you're right." She sat silently for a few more minutes, then got up and went back in the house.

He tried to go back to reading, but he couldn't concentrate.

* * *

He was sitting along the river bank, waiting for Connie. They'd had their table read for the premiere and had made plans to meet up before heading home. She had some wardrobe stuff to take care of, so he'd headed on out. He thought about the table read and the direction they seemed to be headed. He sighed. It seemed like maybe Connie was right. _You know what they're gonna do, right? I mean, it wasn't just possible to have Deacon survive surgery without Beverly flatlining. And now we're dealing with another coma? Really? And this whole Juliette thing. I just don't have a good feeling, Chip. I don't have a good feeling at all._ He shook his head. It did seem over the top, he'd give her that.

He heard footsteps on the gravel path and he turned to see her walking towards him. She sat down on the ground next to him and linked her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Sorry to make you wait," she said, with a tired smile.

He smiled back at her and patted her hand. "No worries. It was kinda nice to just sit with the quiet."

She grinned. "I don't even know what that is these days," she said, with a laugh. "Life with a five year old is never quiet." She rubbed his arm and leaned against him again. "You're at the studio tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Yeah." He breathed in and then let it out. Sitting here in this peaceful place, with her, was probably the closest thing to magical in his life. They sat there for a few minutes, not talking, just being quiet together.

Then she pushed back and withdrew her arm, running her tongue over her bottom lip. She looked down, then out over the river, and he had one of those feelings like something bad was coming. "So, I wanted to talk to you about something," she said.

 _Here it comes._ "What's that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level, although his heart was beating so hard he could practically hear it.

She looked at him, her face a mix of pensive and sad. "Well, you know I've sort of alluded to this before. The, uh, the not dating thing." He felt like he couldn't breathe. "All my friends are really pushing me to get out there and, well, I don't really have a good reason to explain why I'm not. I mean, I've used Yoby and the idea that I'm a _mom_ and I have responsibilities, but they keep pointing out that he's growing up and not as needy."

He chewed on his lip, then turned to her. "So you're gonna be dating someone?" He could hear the harshness in his voice, knew it wasn't fair of him, but he couldn't help it.

She shook her head. "No. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna do it now. Or tomorrow. I'm not going on a dating site." She tried to laugh, but it faded quickly. "But I think they're going to try to fix me up. At some point. And I probably need to do it, just to placate them."

He clenched his jaw and looked out over the river. "So I'm just supposed to be okay with that? That you're gonna start dating? Where does that leave me? Leave _us_?"

"It doesn't have to…look, it would just be a date. For appearances sake. To keep people from, I don't know, wondering what the deal is. I'm not saying I want to break up with you or anything."

He looked at her then and frowned. "You just want to date people and keep me on the side, is that what I'm hearing?" he asked, knowing he sounded petulant. He knew he had no leg to stand on, not really, but he didn't like this idea at all.

She frowned back at him. "No, that's not what I'm saying. But as long as you brought it up, isn't that what I'm doing now? You're married and keeping me on the side, right?"

He shook his head angrily. "I _love_ you, Connie. It's not the same."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? I love you too, Chip, but you go home every day to your _beautiful wife_ and your family, and I'm at home by myself. Maybe I'd like to go out sometimes and have some fun. It doesn't have to mean it's this big love affair or relationship or anything. It would be nice to go out with someone other than just a girlfriend."

"I don't want you to do it," he said, stubbornly.

She huffed. "I don't think you have a lot to say about it, actually." She stood up then. "I'm not replacing you, Chip. And maybe I won't even do it at all. It's not like it was my idea in the first place. But something's gotta give here, you know?"

He didn't turn to look at her, didn't respond at all. Finally he heard her walk away. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he rubbed at his face. He only had himself to blame, he knew that. She was right. It wasn't fair to her. But he hated the idea of her dating someone, maybe realizing she wanted someone else. He wasn't ready to walk away, couldn't make himself cut the cord, so it was his own damn fault if she got away. He just had no idea what he would do without her, couldn't even imagine his life without her in it.


	5. Chapter 5

He sat at the river for a long time. He wasn't at all sure what he was going to do. _How will we even work together? How can I be around her now? How awkward is it gonna be?_ Then his thoughts went to the whole idea of her dating at all. _How long before she finds someone? And then how long til they sleep together? And she's all giddy with a new relationship? And then were does it lead?_

That's when he got angry. He picked up a pebble, then stood up, and furiously tossed it in the river. He stomped around, kicking up gravel around the area. He punched the air and made angry sounds as he did. His phone buzzed and he quickly pulled it from his pocket, hoping it was her, telling him it was all a mistake, that she never meant it. But it was Patty. _Where are you? We're leaving for Addie's game._

Addie had a club soccer game. He'd been glad they were done early so he could attend and then Connie suggested stopping at the river. So she could break his heart. It made him angry again and then suddenly he was crying. He sank down to the ground on his knees and wept.

* * *

In the end, he missed Addie's game. He drove home and walked into an empty house. He filled a glass with whiskey and drank it out on the back porch. When it was gone he poured another. He wondered if there was enough whiskey to drown his broken heart. When he was feeling appropriately buzzed, he sat back and thought about what was next.

He had scenes with her. It was unavoidable. Deacon was alive and that meant Deacon and Rayna were together, as a couple, and that meant kisses and hugs and deeply intimate looks. He sighed. He had longed for the time when they would have these kinds of scenes. They both had. The ones they'd already had had given them opportunities to play out their love for each other without anyone knowing. He felt tears in his eyes and he rubbed at his face.

 _You're an actor, Chip. You can play anything. You can_ _pretend_ _anything._ He would have to. He put his hand over his heart then. He still loved her though. That wouldn't go away so easy, if at all. He thought again about what she'd said. _All my friends are really pushing me to get out there and, well, I don't really have a good reason to explain why I'm not._ He knew the truth of that. Connie Britton was a beautiful, sexy, available woman. At least to the world at large, she was available. He sat forward, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. _I need to let her go, if she feels like that's what she needs._

He leaned his head down, running his hands through his hair. Just thinking that made him feel sick to his stomach. He wished he could just walk away. He wished he could just tell Patty they were done and go to Connie. But he'd made a promise to himself and the thought of breaking that promise weighed on him. Maybe it made him weak. But he couldn't help but think that making that commitment to his kids wasn't something he could take lightly. They, of course, didn't know he'd made that promise, but they would surely know that he had walked away.

 _I don't know what I'm going to do without her._

* * *

She came and sat next to him in craft services. They had a couple scenes together that day and she was already in her wardrobe. "Hey," she said, with a soft smile. It was the first time he'd seen her since they'd been together at the river. Since she'd dropped the bombshell on him.

His heart was pounding and he felt pressure behind his eyes. "Hey," he responded, sounding sharper than he'd meant to. She frowned a little.

"I was thinking we could run through lines real quick," she said, sounding a little uncertain now.

He looked at her, not sure exactly what to say. _Do I just say no? Do I ask her if she's lost her mind? Do I ask why she's acting like nothing's changed?_ He took a deep breath. "I really can't right now," he said, finally, getting up and walking away from her.

* * *

When they finished their last scene of the day, he got up to walk out, but she grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn back to look at her. There was confusion on her face. "Hey," she said. "What's going on?"

He felt his heart pounding again. He felt like he needed to get away from her. "Nothing," he said, pulling his arm from her grip.

She frowned. "I don't believe that. You haven't answered my texts. You're not talking to me. Can we go somewhere?"

He raised up his hands and took a step back. "You know, I can't. I got a writing appointment." Then he turned and hurried out before she could stop him.

* * *

As he drove down the highway, he fought his emotions. It was clear, while they were filming, that she was trying to figure out where his head was at. She'd texted him several times since their meeting at the river, but he hadn't responded. He thought about how he'd sat there, his phone in his hand, staring at her texts, asking him to call, to let her know how he was feeling, telling him she was sorry, but he'd just deleted them without responding. He wasn't ready to talk to her about it. It was enough to have to work together.

While they were on set, she was continually trying to catch his eye, her fingers reaching for him as he would step out of her way. Both scenes required them to embrace, to kiss, and it had taken every ounce of restraint he'd had to get through, every ounce of professionalism he possessed to get through the scenes believably. As long as he wasn't facing the camera, he'd look past her, let his hands just rest on her, instead of holding her the way he would have wanted to. He could see the question in her eyes and it hurt him to hurt her.

But this was all new territory and he didn't know how to navigate. It didn't escape him that it was the landscape _she'd_ been living with these past three years. But she knew the situation with him and Patty – a marriage in name only. What she was contemplating took them into uncharted territory. He sighed. He had no one to talk to about this. He understood her feelings of being alone with this, because he was too. Living in the shadows, the way the two of them had been, was a lonely life. They basically had only each other to talk to about it, to cling to when it got rough, and the latter was the issue right now. He couldn't talk to her about it, because he didn't know how.

He got off the highway and headed past downtown, heading for one of the fairly nondescript old houses along and near Music Row, to one that now was the home to one of the many publishing companies in Nashville. Here was where he was meeting Andrew Rollins for a writing appointment. He'd been excited when he'd first scored the appointment, since Andrew was a hot commodity in Nashville. He was still hoping that one of his songs would catch on with an artist who could get it heard. He'd met Andrew through Jaida Dreyer and he was anxious to see what he could learn from him.

* * *

He headed down the hall to the writing room he'd been directed to and Andrew was already there. They shook hands. "Thanks, Andrew, for the appointment," he said, full of gratitude.

Andrew shook his head. "No worries, man. Jaida thinks a lot of you, so I'm happy to see how we can work together." They sat across from each other. "Did you have anything you wanted to start with?"

The idea had popped into his head as he had wound his way through the streets of the Music Row area. "Actually, yeah, I do," he said. "I was thinking about a man being kind of at a crossroads in a relationship, trying to decide to stay or go. Sort of like they've hit a rough spot and there's a decision to be made and he's struggling. Like there's two sides to it, should he stay or go. Or let _her_ go."

Andrew was listening to him thoughtfully, nodding. "I like it. Maybe it's the kind of deal where you're thinking you should cut her loose, but the pull is still there."

He nodded and smiled. "Exactly." He thought for a minute. "Maybe it's like he's at a bar, having a drink or two and trying to figure out what to do. Maybe it's even that he's telling the bartender his struggle. And there's no one there can tell him what to do."

Andrew grinned. "And then at the end, he has one more drink, because the answer's gonna be at the bottom of _that_ glass." They laughed together.

* * *

It was a productive session. Three and a half hours later, they'd finished, and he had a really good feeling about the song. As personal as it was, it had also been cathartic to write. His relationship with Connie was complicated and hard. And maybe they both needed a breather, a chance to re-center.

"Let's run it through top to bottom," Andrew suggested and they did, with Andrew providing some harmony vocals.

 _Will one more drink  
Lead to one more drink?  
I need my head to think this through  
'Cause my heart won't tell me what to do  
Should I call?  
Baby, if I call  
Would you let that phone just beep?  
Or would you pick it up, and rescue me?_

 _I got two sides of my heart_  
 _So I don't know_  
 _One's saying that I should stay_  
 _One's telling me to go_  
 _There's a fight down deep inside_  
 _Tearing me apart_  
 _I got two sides of my heart_

 _If you showed up_  
 _And we made up_  
 _And we started it up again_  
 _Would it all be better then?_  
 _And that pretty smile_  
 _Would it last a while?_  
 _Or would you do just what you do?_  
 _Would you break my heart in two?_

 _I got two sides of my heart_  
 _So I don't know_  
 _One's saying that I should stay_  
 _One's telling me to go_  
 _There's a fight down deep inside_  
 _Tearing me apart_  
 _I got two sides of my heart_

 _God only knows what I should do to make it right_  
 _To help me in this fight, but he ain't telling me tonight_

 _I got two sides of my heart_  
 _So I don't know_  
 _One's saying that I should stay_  
 _One's yelling, and telling me I should go_  
 _There's a fight down deep inside_  
 _I'm being torn apart_  
 _By the two sides of my heart_  
 _I got two sides of my heart_

 _Give me one more drink_

He put his hand over the guitar strings and smiled. "I like it," he said. "That one felt good to write."

Andrew reached out his hand and they shook. "Glad I could be your wingman then."

* * *

He was walking across the parking lot towards his trailer. "Chip!" He heard her call out his name but he kept walking, didn't stop or turn to look at her. "Chip, wait!" He kept going, but he could hear her footsteps pick up the pace. He got all the way to the steps of his trailer when she caught up with him. She grabbed his arm. "Chip, please," she pleaded, and he finally looked at her. They had just finished a scene for the third episode, where Rayna was trying to give comfort to Deacon as Beverly lay dying in the hospital.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. Then he looked back at her. "I need to get going, Connie," he said. That wasn't true, but he still didn't know what to say to her. He knew he was avoiding the conversation. She'd left him alone, but it was clear now that had only been temporary.

"I want to talk to you," she said stubbornly. "You've been avoiding me, and I've let you, but enough is enough."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

She raised her own. "Yes, really."

He breathed out, then walked up the steps and opened the trailer door, walking in. "Suit yourself," he said, pretending an ambivalence he did not feel.

She walked in behind him and slammed the door, making him turn around to face her. "You're shutting me out," she said, her face red.

He shrugged. "What do you want me to do, Connie? Stand on the sideline and cheer you on while you get a boyfriend? Watch you get all glammed up and go out on the town, acting like you're having the time of your life?" He knew he was walking a fine line, but he couldn't help it.

Her eyes flew open and she threw her arms out. "Are you serious?" she cried. "Do you hear how you sound?" She walked over and stood in front of him and poked him in the chest, her eyes flashing with fury. "Aren't you doing the exact same thing? And expecting _me_ to just watch and not say a word?" She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. "You're such a fucking hypocrite, you know?"

He was. He knew it. But he loved her. And he was hurt. "Are you gonna _sleep_ with these guys you date? Because I don't do that." He knew he sounded petulant and childish but he couldn't help it.

She closed her eyes, then looked back at him, with an expression he couldn't discern. "It's really not about that, Chip," she said, her voice quiet but unemotional. "I thought you understood that." She sighed. "Maybe we don't really know each other after all." She shook her head and walked over to the door. Then she turned back to look at him, her hand on the door knob. "I've tried to tell you how I feel, but you just don't listen. You're just so unbelievably selfish and I can't believe I never really saw that before. I guess we'll just have to figure out how we go forward as professionals, because I just can't do this with you anymore." She opened the door and walked out, closing it behind her, leaving him to just watch her walk out of his life.

He felt like his heart was in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She was right, he _was_ a hypocrite. But he _loved_ her. He loved _her_. He didn't want anyone but _her_. Hadn't wanted anyone but her. And he hadn't been able to give her the one thing she needed. All of _him_.

* * *

They got through the next few weeks. They were professionals and they acted like it. When he watched the dailies with an objective eye, he knew no one would have been able to tell they weren't talking, weren't interacting at all, except on set. If any of their cast mates noticed a chill between the two of them, no one brought it up to him. But it still weighed heavily on him and he wondered if it did for her as well.

It was the first day on the set for episode 5 when she approached him. "Hey," she said, a hint of a smile on her face. They had only one scene together in this episode and they weren't filming it until later in the week. There was also a phone call scene, but nothing else together. His scenes were mostly with Clare, hers with the girls and with Riley Smith, who was coming on in a recurring role.

He breathed in. "Hey."

"So, it doesn't seem like we have much together this time," she said, looking down at her hands, then back at him.

"No, you're right, it doesn't."

She sighed then. "I hate this, Chip. This…distance between us. I wish we could just talk about this."

He felt a lump in his throat, but he didn't want his emotions to get in the way. "I just don't know what to say, Connie," he said. "I don't know what _you_ want me to say."

She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. "I don't want you to say anything you don't feel," she said. She looked down at her feet, then back at him. "Will you let me try to explain?"

"Haven't you already done that?" he asked. "I thought I understood you pretty well when you told me you wanted to date. Other people. Have a relationship with someone else."

She glared at him. "That's _not_ what I said. You're twisting my words around." She looked around. They were standing near the set for Rayna's kitchen and there were crew milling around, not close by but they certainly were out in the open. "Can you walk outside with me?"

"Connie, I have a scene coming up."

"Just for a minute. You have a minute, don't you?" She gave him a challenging look.

He shrugged. "I suppose." She turned and headed briskly for the door that led out to the front of the production building. He took a deep breath and then followed behind her. It was an early fall day, sunny but, as was the norm in Nashville, a little breezy. Her hair bounced off her shoulders in the breeze. She stood over by a tree, crossing her arms over her waist. "Okay, I'm here," he said, as he walked up, and he knew he sounded testy.

She looked around, then back at him. "You keep saying _I_ want to date someone, that _I_ want to have a relationship with someone. But that's not what I said at all."

He shook his head. "Isn't it though? No matter what words you used, Connie, you wanted to do this."

She made a face. "I said I didn't have a reason not to."

He poked his chest. " _I'm_ your reason not to." He glared at her. "Or at least I was."

She looked off to the side. "I told you, Chip. I wasn't walking away from you. I was open to doing something that would take the heat off me. _You_ were the one who couldn't deal with that."

He closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm. She looked up at him. "You wanna tell me how you'd navigate dating someone then and not sleeping with them?"

She pulled her arm away. "You don't know that it would lead to that."

He let out a sarcastic laugh and shook his head. "Seriously, Connie? What are you gonna tell someone when you're, oh, five dates in and they're expecting you to let them stay the night?"

She frowned at him, putting her hands on her hips. "That I have a child at home." She held up her hand. "And before you say one word to me about that, you _know_ Yoby. He _loves_ you. So it's different." She huffed. "I _love_ you, Chip. That hasn't changed, although God knows you've given me every reason not to lately."

He breathed in sharply. "Then don't do this," he said. "Don't worry about what they say." She looked away. "What? You already been on a date? Or you have one?"

She shrugged. "I'm going to a benefit with Daniel Lindley, the chef at Fifth & Taylor. I met him recently and he seems like a nice man. It's just friends."

He shook his head, looking up towards the sky, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay. "It's a damn date," he whispered.

"Don't do this," she said. He looked at her and saw the tears in her eyes. "Please don't make it a big deal. Please know I'm doing it to keep anyone from wondering. I'm not looking for a relationship, Chip. I promise." She bit her lip. "Please trust me."

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust her. He knew he was being petty and he knew he was being a hypocrite. But it felt different somehow. "I don't know," he said. He shook his head. "I just can't do this right now." He turned then and walked back towards the entrance to the building.

As he walked across the set, he couldn't help but think about the song he'd written with Andrew. _I got two sides of my heart / So I don't know / One's saying that I should stay / One's telling me to go / There's a fight down deep inside / Tearing me apart._ He didn't want to make it a big deal. He wanted to trust her. He just didn't want to lose her and that was what he was most afraid of. He couldn't figure out what the right thing was to do.

* * *

He was on his way home a few days later when he called his daughter. "Hey, Tay, you still on campus?" he asked, when she answered.

"Yeah, I am."

"I'm driving home and just thought I'd stop by on the way, if that's okay."

"I'd love it. I'm at Ayers. We could meet at Starbucks."

He grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

He parked and then walked across the campus towards the academic center. Although Taylor was still living at home, she was always busy, as was he, and it felt sometimes like they didn't have much time to connect. He walked into the large building on the quad and located the Starbucks. Taylor was already sitting at a table in the corner and she raised her hand when she saw him. He ordered a black coffee and then joined her at the table. The coffee shop was moderately busy, but no one really paid them any attention. He looked around, trying to be surreptitious, to see if they'd be bothered. She laughed, that laugh that almost sounded musical. It always had.

He pretended to frown. "You laughing at me?"

She grinned. "I'm trying to decide if you think you need to set up a meet and greet or if you're afraid nobody will know who you are," she said, laughing again.

He made a face at her and shook his head. "I'm not _that_ vain, am I?" he asked.

"Of course not. But you don't have to worry. I don't think most people would know who you are. Now if you were Keith Urban or Blake Shelton or somebody like that, you might have to worry."

He laughed. "So how you doing? I feel like I don't see enough of you."

She shrugged. "Busy. Getting ready for midterms. Working on my music. I've been spending time in the studios here on campus, getting some session time in."

He raised his eyebrows. "You got something you're working on?"

She nodded. "A few things." She looked at him closely then. "How are _you_ doing?"

"Me? I'm fine. Busy, of course. Got some writing appointments set up. A couple Opry shows coming up."

"You seem sort of distracted. Like your mind's on something else." She looked concerned.

He shook his head. Obviously, he wasn't going to share his situation with her. "Probably just that I've had a lot of emotional scenes to do on the show. Deacon's kind of going through the wringer."

She looked at him curiously and then nodded. "So it's not just Dad."

He smiled, trying to be reassuring. "No, it's work." He wanted to take the focus off him. "So tell me more about what you're working on."

"Well, I've been working on some songs. Kind of personal stuff, though. About boys." She smiled and scrunched her nose at him.

"Ah, I see, stuff you don't want your dad to see."

She shook her head. "Maybe not yet. I do have something I can show you though. It's not finished. It's a verse and a chorus, so it's a work in progress." She opened up a notebook and flipped through pages until she settled on one. She turned the notebook towards him and slid it over. He pulled it closer and read the words she'd written out in her beautiful longhand.

 _Even if the clouds come rolling in_  
 _And the rain comes pouring down_  
 _Even if the walls start crumbling_  
 _I'll always be around_  
 _No matter what trials come our way_  
 _We're gonna make it through_  
 _'Cause I've found all that I'm looking for_  
 _And oh, my love, that's you_

 _My love, you take me deep_  
 _And your love, it covers me_  
 _My love, you take me deep_  
 _And your love, it covers me_  
 _  
_

He read it through twice, then once more, a little overwhelmed by the words she'd chosen and the emotions they evoked. He looked up at her, her expression both expectant and anxious. "Sweetheart, this is beautiful," he said. "I mean, really beautiful. Raw and insightful."

The look she gave him then seemed, for a second, like she saw into his soul, saw the pain that had been in his heart, the uncertainty he'd been feeling. But then it was gone and it was just his little girl, growing up into a beautiful, sensitive woman, who was writing great music. "It's about true love," she said simply, and he felt her words deep inside his heart. For a minute he felt like he couldn't breathe, but then he took in a long, slightly shaky breath.

"Yes, it is," he said quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

He couldn't stop thinking about Taylor's song. He couldn't stop thinking about his own song. He sat out on the back porch with some bourbon and looked out towards the trees in the backyard. The leaves were just starting to turn and when the breeze picked up, it would shake loose some of them. He'd have to get Chase out there over the weekend to do some raking. He sipped on his drink, letting the rich liquid roll around on his tongue and then down his throat. It was a smooth bourbon, no burning aftertaste as it settled in his stomach. It was a Maker's Mark Private Select, one Connie had introduced him to.

 _She walked around the edge of the couch and handed him both glasses, then sat down next to him. He gave one of the glasses back to her and they touched them together. She smiled. "I think you'll like this one. It's got a really interesting flavor." She watched as he took a sip. He held it in his mouth for a moment, then swallowed._

" _You're right," he said. "It has a little smokiness to it. And a touch of something else." He screwed up his face as he tried to place whatever it was that added richness._

" _Vanilla," she said, taking a sip of her own._

 _He took another sip. "That's it." She smiled, then adjusted herself so that she was curled up against his side. He put his arm around her, letting his fingers get tangled up in her hair. "It's good stuff."_

 _She turned her head to look up at him. "I thought you'd like it."_

 _He leaned down and brushed her lips with a kiss. "I like you. Whiskey lips." She laughed softly and he kissed her again. "I love how your mouth tastes when you've been drinking."_

 _She ran her hand up and down his leg and arched her back against him. "I just like how your mouth tastes, period," she said, a husky note to her voice._

 _He pressed his lips against her hair. "How about you finish that up and let me take you upstairs and taste all of you," he murmured._

 _She smiled up at him and then took a longer sip from her glass. She sat forward and set her glass down on the coffee table, then turned so that she was facing him. She gave him an impish smile and let her hand rest between his legs, giving him tiny strokes with her fingers. "I like that idea about you tasting me," she said._

" _Oh, goddammit, Connie," he groaned, feeling himself respond quickly to her touch. He set his glass on the side table and pushed up from the couch, reaching for her hand to pull her up with him. Then he slid his hands into her hair, his thumbs on her cheeks, kissing her hungrily as he pressed himself against her. She put her hands on his ass, rubbing herself against him as she kissed him back._

 _When he pulled his lips from hers, he could barely breathe, and all he could think about was burying himself deep inside her, right that minute. She seemed to sense his urgency and stepped back, taking his hand. "Let's go, my love," she whispered, and pulled him with her towards the stairs._

He drew in a deep breath as he felt himself get aroused just thinking about her. Then he thought about her with someone else. He felt the heat of anger and the pain of that all in one emotion. It was true – there were two sides to his heart. One wanted to push her away, for good, the other wanted to beg her to come back, to reconsider. And in the middle was that aching mix of anger and hurt.

"Hey, Dad," came Chase's voice from the back door. "I was hoping you'd look over my fantasy picks." Chase walked around and sat in the chair next to him, handing over a sheet of paper.

He forced a smile on his face and glanced over at his son. "Be glad to look it over," he said and then looked down at the paper in his hand. He breathed in deeply. This was the kind of thing he would miss, if he weren't here. Or he'd miss getting to talk to Taylor about the music she was writing. Or watch the Steelers with Chase and Addie. He held out the paper and pointed, looking over at his son. "Why'd you do this, buddy?" he asked.

It really hadn't been a hard choice, making the commitment to his kids. Sometimes it made him wonder if he should have let himself get involved with Connie in the first place. Maybe it had been unfair to both of them. Love was a strong emotion. The feeling of connection they had was hard to deny. He could have made the actual hard choice back in the beginning, to not let his emotions lead him, to have pushed her away and not put her in the position that had led them to where they were currently. Maybe, if given a choice, he would have gone back and changed everything.

* * *

He was sitting in the music room set, reading a book between scenes, when he heard her footsteps. Even now, he could still tell it was her. He looked up and back over his shoulder as she walked in and around the couch where he sat, sitting in a chair. She sat right on the edge, her hands clasped on her knees. He put his book down and waited her out.

She looked up towards the ceiling and sighed. "I get that things are gonna be weird between us, but I still want to be able to talk about our scenes together. I feel like we're a little off right now, because we've been avoiding each other." She smirked. "Well, _you've_ been avoiding _me_."

He sat up and raised his eyebrows, deciding to ignore her jabs. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked, trying to stay neutral, not wanting to get into an argument with her. She was dressed for their scene they would film later in this very room. Deacon and Rayna would bicker with each other over Deacon's bar and her refusal to support him. Or at least that's the way he saw it.

She sighed again, rolling her eyes. "Okay, then," she said. "So I guess I wondered what you were thinking about their, I don't know, divergent paths. Her being caught up with producing Markus's album. Him being caught up in the bar."

He shrugged. "I guess it's healthy for them to have some different interests," he said.

She made a face. "Healthy? Deacon's an alcoholic. You think it's healthy for him to own a bar?"

He spread his hands out. "Why not? He's been sober pretty much all the past sixteen years or so. I would think he's capable of knowing how to handle himself. Although it sure does seem like Rayna doesn't think so." He raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

She looked shocked. "Well, of course Rayna would be _concerned_. That's a lot of temptation."

He breathed in. He found himself wondering if she'd already gone on her date, if there had been another one, if they had…. Well, he didn't really want to think about _that_. "But he's back with Rayna," he said. "He's where he wants to be, with the woman he's loved practically his whole life. And he just had a liver transplant. Why would he fuck that up, Connie?" He shook his head. "I think he's just doing something that makes him happy, that makes him feel a little less like he's just sitting around her house, waiting for her to come home so his life can start."

Her eyes flew open. "Is that really how you see it?"

He shrugged. "Isn't that how it is?" he asked. "She's got her label and her boy toy, who she's spending all her time with."

She narrowed her eyes. "Boy toy? Is this Deacon talking? Or Chip?"

He shook his head and let out a little laugh. "It's Chip talking about Deacon," he said.

She frowned. "I can't believe how we're not on the same page," she said.

"We don't always have to be on the same page," he said, hearing the brittleness in his voice. "Besides, I don't think Deacon and Rayna are either. So there we go."

She breathed out in an angry huff. "I think you're just being deliberately argumentative."

"Why? Because I don't agree with you?"

She stood up then and glared down at him. "No. Because you're just angry at _me_. And I have to be honest with you, Chip. This isn't a good look for you. It makes me wonder just how obtuse you actually are. And it makes me question everything." She gave him one more angry look and then walked off.

He sat back and closed his eyes. He knew he was being an ass and he knew he needed to stop it, or she might just wash her hands of him for good, but he wasn't sure how to stop. All he knew was that every time he saw her, every time he thought about her with someone else, his blood boiled and his heart hurt and he couldn't stop himself from being a jerk. _Maybe Deacon and I have more in common than I even thought._

* * *

It was late and he was sitting on the porch. He held up the glass of whiskey towards the clear full moon, letting the light set the caramel brown liquid aglow. He hadn't turned the lights on so everything was in shadow. There was a slight chill in the air, as they were edging into November, but he didn't mind. The third glass of whiskey was keeping him warm.

The back door opened, but he didn't even look over to see who it was. By the sound of the footsteps, he could tell it was Patty. He was surprised she was still up. "You're up late," she said.

He lowered his glass, turning then to look at her in the moonlight. Her face looked pale, almost transparent. He could tell she was wearing a light colored robe and she held something in her hand, but he couldn't tell what. He thought then that she was still a beautiful woman – reminding him of all the times he would refer to her that way in interviews or in those posed photos of the two of them – but he still mainly thought of her as the mother of their children. Although he referred to her as his wife, that seemed, these days, like a word he'd said over and over so much that it no longer had any meaning. Wife implied some sort of connection, a romantic or loving connection, one he no longer felt. He let out a quiet sigh. "You are too," he responded to her comment.

She walked over a little closer and he could see her face a little more clearly. She reached out and laid a magazine on the table next to him and then looked at him. It was still dark enough that he couldn't quite make out completely the look on her face, but there seemed to be a hint of a smile and then something in her eyes he couldn't place. She shrugged. "I saw a picture of your costar in here," she said. He held his breath, waiting to see if she'd say more. She almost never called Connie by name, usually referring to her as 'her' or 'your costar', so he wasn't surprised at that. When he didn't respond, she turned and walked back in the house.

He took another sip of the whiskey. This one was Belle Meade bourbon, another one Connie had introduced him to. He particularly liked the flavor of it and, because it was one of her favorites, the taste always reminded him of her. And her whiskey lips. _When I rise in the morning / She's on my mind / 'Til I hold her I won't be okay / And I can see she's killin' me / This love isn't blind / Still I just can't walk away._ He sighed and glanced over at the magazine.

It was a _Nashville Lifestyles_ magazine. He'd been featured in it a couple times, even been on the cover. He'd been one of their best looking people in Nashville one year. That made him smile a little. The show had gotten him that. It was good publicity, for sure. Nashville was an interesting city. Having lived in LA for so many years, he'd seen how paparazzi stalked major stars, chasing them down the streets, camping out outside their homes, following them into restaurants, shops, and even grocery stores. It had never happened to him, because he'd never been a big enough star, but Connie had told him that she'd often found herself in a magazine or online somewhere, even just getting off a plane after a cross-country flight with Yoby. But in Nashville, it was as though people just knew not to make a big deal out of celebrities. The show had made many of them more recognizable, but even now, people mostly left them alone.

The best looking people in Nashville edition always featured a few of the more famous people in town, and the handful of articles dedicated to Nashville's notables were a gentle nod to that part of their city. But he knew, as did most of the cast, that while the vast majority of the city's residents were, at best, ambivalent about the show and its place in the publicity machine, there would always be an interest and some recognition of the effect the show had had on the tourist fortunes of the city. So it wasn't a surprise that Connie might have her picture in the magazine. That Patty felt it necessary to point it out meant it probably wasn't one he'd want to see.

He and Connie hadn't talked anymore about the chef she was going out with. _It's just a benefit_ , she had said. But it was still a date. And it made him wonder, again, how many of those she'd had with him. Or with someone else. _How far had it gone?_ He closed his eyes for a second, then took a long swallow of the bourbon in his glass. He was already a little buzzed, but just the thought of what might be in that magazine made him want to go all in and just get drunk.

He drained the glass, then got up from his chair. He reached for the magazine and walked inside. He stepped on the garbage can opener and hovered over the open can with the magazine, but then curiosity got the better of him. Maybe it was because he'd had three glasses of bourbon, maybe it was because he thought if he saw whatever it was that it would harden his heart, but he walked over to the counter by the stove and hit the vent light. He spread the magazine on the counter and started to flip through the pages.

He'd gone through the entire magazine and felt puzzled when he didn't see anything about her. Then he went back to the last few pages, where they often had photos from different events around town. He looked at each page carefully and then finally saw it. He noticed her first, of course, because she always commanded attention. She was wearing a leather jacket and a white blouse, cut low enough to show off her cleavage. Her hair was in soft waves around her shoulders, the way he liked it. She had a smile on her face and an arm around the waist of a man who looked almost like a kid. He didn't linger long on his face or anything about him, but it didn't escape him that the other man looked young. Too young for Connie. He looked back at Connie, leaning down to take in her face. His eyes searched the photo. She had that perfect smile but when he looked at her eyes, he thought he saw a hint of something there. It was the way she had smiled on the show, when Rayna was with Luke.

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and looked again. This time he didn't see it. She looked like she did for every publicity photo, like she was having a good time. Maybe it had been an illusion. Maybe he'd just wanted it to be so. He breathed in deeply and turned out the light. Then he picked up the magazine and walked back over to the garbage can and dropped it in.

As he walked up the stairs, he realized his heart didn't feel a bit hardened. In fact, it hurt even more.

* * *

When he'd read the script for the upcoming episode, he'd known he needed to get past his anger. It wasn't even hurt feelings any longer, it was anger. He'd taken Blue on a run, trying to work through all the feelings he had and had had over the long weeks since she'd told him she thought she needed to date. If she was still seeing that chef guy, she was definitely keeping it on the down low. She was a private person, though, at least she'd learned to be. She still looked at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes, when they were together on set. They still didn't talk much about scenes, or anything really, and that had felt uncomfortable.

They were professionals, though, and on set they played the scenes as they were written and he truly didn't think anyone watching any of the episodes would have picked up on any tension between the two of them. Maybe it was how it would have been if they'd never acted on their feelings, that after a while they would have just settled into whatever this was. He had thought he'd never be able to do it, that he'd never be able to be around her like this. Somehow he'd figured it out, she'd figured it out. He still missed her though. He still loved her and he wondered how she felt. He'd never ask, though, and he thought this was as good a time as any to let her know he was ready to let go.

When he got to the set, he saw her standing off to the side at Rayna's kitchen. He took a deep breath and then walked up to her. "Hey," he said, and she looked up at him. He thought she looked almost hopeful, but he was sure he was wrong about that. He'd decided his instincts about all of this were totally wrong. "You got a minute?"

She gave him a tentative smile and nodded. "Sure."

He nodded towards a hallway and she followed. He walked about halfway down, then stopped, leaning against the wall. She stood next to him, close but not too close, facing him. He shook his head and gave her a half-smile. "I know I've been pretty much a jackass for the last few weeks," he said. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. "Okay, longer than that." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to rehash it all, but I get that you need to do this…whatever it is. Dating, relationship, whatever. And I don't have any right to be mad or upset or anything. You know how I feel about you, Connie. You're the best person I know and you deserve everything good." He swallowed. "You deserve to be happy. So…if this makes you happy, you should go for it."

She looked surprised and didn't say anything immediately. "I don't know quite what to say, Chip," she said finally.

He shook his head. "You don't have to say anything. I, uh, I just want us to be friends, I guess. I don't want things to be, you know, weird or anything. I'm pretty sure we've got stuff coming up that, well, I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

She blushed a little and he felt his heart turn over. She smiled then, a soft smile. "We're both professionals. I know we can do this. I want us to talk more though. Soon. I think there's more to say."

He felt like his throat was closed off. He could only imagine what that could be. Probably her telling him it was well and truly over, that she'd found love with someone else. That's all it could be, he was sure. He nodded. "Okay," he said, the only thing he trusted himself to say.

She smiled a little more, then reached out and put her hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. "See you on set," she said. She looked at him a moment longer, then turned and headed back towards the set.

He waited until she had turned the corner and then he took a deep, gasping breath. His heart was pounding and he felt a little lightheaded. He took a few more deep breaths, until he'd regained his calm, and then followed the way she had gone.

* * *

They had a late night shoot, a series of scenes outside of Deacon's bar and then the proposal scene on the bridge. He'd been nervous the entire week about the proposal scene. Weather was one factor, but it turned out to be a crisp, cool, clear night. The bar scenes would be filmed behind a vacant building on the east side of the river and then they would be transported to the bridge. One thing he was happy about was that he didn't have to try to talk while walking.

While they waited for the scene to be set up at the bar location, he and Connie sat along the retaining wall behind the building. At first, they just sat quietly. She was tapping her feet, her hands clasped in her lap, looking away from him. He glanced over at her, thinking she looked so pretty that night. "You nervous?" he asked.

She looked back at him and then smiled. "Not really," she said, shaking her head. "I mean, I'm not the one getting proposed to." She laughed, then bit her lip. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be that flip."

He shook his head. "Nah. I didn't take it that way. It's a big scene though. For them. I mean, they're really getting married, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I've already had the fitting for the dress." She waved her hand in the air and made a face. "Oh, I guess they could create some drama" – she rolled her eyes – "to keep them apart one more time, but I don't think that's the plan. At least it doesn't appear to be." She smiled then. "Are _you_ nervous?"

He grinned. "I've gotta get down on one knee. I've been practicing that so I don't just fall flat on my face."

"It'll be a nice moment for them." She took a deep breath. "You know, one of the things I could feel, as I read the scene, is the fact that they truly love each other. That even though they fight, they still love each other. It's part of the way they talk to each other, because they're such passionate people." She looked thoughtful and he just sat and watched her. "In a lot of ways, I think it's healthy that they get things out instead of holding it in. They say what they feel and then they work through it. Because in the end, there's nowhere else they could possibly be and no one else they can do all this with." She waved her hands around. "They're so connected." She looked at him as though she were talking about more than just their characters. "It's true love, so they'll always figure out a way to…."

"Connie? Chip? We're ready to go now." One of the crew had walked out and they both turned in that direction. "Connie, we need you inside."

She looked back at him then and he thought he saw something in her eyes then, but she got up from where they were sitting and followed the crew member into the building, leaving him outside, wondering if she was really talking about more than just Deacon and Rayna.

* * *

The scene behind the bar took longer to film than expected. Lighting was the issue and, as they adjusted and reshot the relatively short scene, it got later and later. They were approaching ten by the time they finally deemed the scene done and, because there was the threat of bad weather the next night and they were already behind filming schedule for the episode, it was decided they would continue on. The Thanksgiving break was looming and they'd been booked for the wedding shoot location right after they returned.

When they arrived at the bridge, it took longer than expected to set up. Even though it was a simple scene, with just the two of them, no extras, lighting was critical as well as placement on the bridge. They headed up the incline together. For some reason, Taylor's song had been on his mind all day. She had finished it and performed it for him and Patty, and he'd thought it was amazing. He kept going back to her words – _No matter what trials come our way / We're gonna make it through / 'Cause I've found all that I'm looking for / And oh, my love, that's you._ He'd been thinking a lot about what was next for him and Connie, and their conversation earlier that evening had started the wheels turning yet again. This time without her had been killing him and his heart kept telling him to fight for her, even while his head told him to let go.

"I tell you what, I'm glad we're not doing this like we did back in the beginning," he said, with a laugh. "I'm definitely not as young as I used to be." He was in decent shape, but he was still a bit winded. He was still trying to keep things professional and friendly, not wanting to lose her completely. He just wished he knew for sure where she stood.

She laughed. "None of us are," she said. She gazed around. "At least it's not as windy as it was that day. Remember that?"

He nodded. "I do." He bit his lip. "I just remember thinking you looked so pretty with your hair kind of blowing around your shoulders. It kind of was perfect for that scene, where Rayna was trying so hard to hold in her feelings."

She nodded. "She was, wasn't she?" She sighed. "That's what I meant before, Chip. They created this bond all those years ago and there's just nothing that's going to break it. I really think they can weather anything. I mean, if she could get past that accident, they can overcome anything, don't you think?" She looked at him, a serious look in her eyes. "It stands the test of time and distance and circumstances. They just belong to each other. In the very best way possible."

He had a lump in his throat, listening to her, and he felt the beginning of tears that he blinked back. He nodded. "Yeah," he said, unable to get any other words out. He cleared his throat. "It's a special kind of love." She nodded and he thought her eyes looked a little misty too.

They headed the rest of the way in silence. He couldn't help but think they'd been carrying on a conversation about themselves, under the guise of Deacon and Rayna. Her words had seemed heartfelt and the way she said them had felt that way too. There had been something in the way she looked at him, in the tone, that had gone to his heart.

* * *

When they were finally at the top of the bridge, when they finally were set up to do the scene, he kept his eyes on hers, searching for her meaning. And when he spoke the words that called back to that very first bridge scene – _sometimes I wish I could just do everything all over again_ – and she asked what he would change, he knew that Deacon's corrected answer was also his own. _Nothing._ He wouldn't have changed a thing.

He saw something then, in her eyes, that told him she was listening. And when she kissed him after he put the ring on her finger, she let her teeth graze his lower lip and, quickly, it turned into a real kiss. Not nearly long enough, but still real. And when the director called out 'cut!' and they pulled away from each other, he saw in her eyes that she wouldn't have changed anything either.


	7. Chapter 7

After the third take, they waited. He was ready to scream with frustration. He didn't think he could stand on that bridge for one more minute. He wanted to talk to Connie. _Needed_ to talk to her. At last the director declared it done and the two of them headed down towards the street entrance. It had gotten colder the longer they'd been out there and they practically ran down the walkway. Just before they got to the street, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down a narrow alley behind a vacant building.

She looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling just a little. He held onto her arms and looked back at her. Suddenly she reached her hands up to his face, then slid them around the back of his neck, pulling his face to hers. When she put her lips against his, he nearly wept with emotion. He pushed her back against the brick wall, his hands moving to her waist. She arched her back and opened her mouth to his, letting him kiss her with abandon.

She moved her hands to his chest, then slid them under his jacket and around his back. Then she slid them down to his ass, pulling him against her, all the while making little moaning noises in the back of her throat. Everything around them seemed to fade away as he held her close, feeling the tears behind his eyes.

He didn't know how long they had been there, but he sensed the presence of someone more than heard it at first. He pulled his lips away from hers, leaning against her as though to hide her. "Oh, my," he heard, the voice low and surprised, familiar somehow, although he couldn't quite place it. Connie grabbed his jacket and pressed her face against his chest. Footsteps scurried away, whoever it was under cover of darkness.

After a few minutes, he ran his hand up her back. "You go ahead," he whispered. "I'll come in a minute." They both needed to get to the transport back to the production lot. She slipped out of his embrace and hurried out of the alley and out of his sight. He pressed his hands against the wall, leaning his head against the cold brick as he caught his breath. He still didn't know what this all meant. They would need to talk.

Finally he pushed back and forced himself to walk at a normal pace, out to the walkway and then down to the street, where he got into the van with Connie and the rest of the crew. As they drove out of a mostly empty downtown, he did two things. He glanced at his phone and saw it was just after 1:00, making the decision to get a hotel room for the night. He then wondered who on the van was the person who had seen them.

* * *

"Chip!" she whispered, loud enough for him to hear. He stepped behind a trailer, out of sight, and she followed. She was squeezing her hands together. "We need to talk."

He shook his head. "Not here." He was still nervous about whoever might have walked past them at the end of the bridge.

"Can you come to my house?" He hesitated. "Please?"

"I got a room," he said. He had made the reservation on the van, after he'd texted Patty that he was staying downtown. She had texted back to ask where he was staying and he'd turned off his phone.

She hugged herself, stomping her feet to keep warm. "Where?"

"Hilton. Downtown." She had a pleading look to her face. "Follow me." She smiled gratefully and ran to her car. He took a deep breath. Although he wanted to be with her, they did have some things to talk about.

* * *

He turned on his phone long enough to give her the room number and then shut it back off, not wanting to be disturbed. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited. It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on the door. When he looked through the peephole, he saw her standing there, her arms wrapped around her waist. He opened the door and she slid inside.

When he closed the door and turned to face her, he took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to start that way, but he closed the gap between them, taking her in his arms and kissing her, as she kissed him back hungrily. Then they pulled at each other's clothes, frantically undressing. She got on the bed and laid back against the pillows, not even getting under the covers. He crawled onto the bed after her, kneeling between her legs as she gazed up at him. He balanced himself on one hand, letting the other trail down her abdomen to her core, his fingers feeling how wet she was. He sucked in his breath and she bit down on her lip. He wrapped his hand around himself and entered her swiftly, causing her to gasp.

He stayed on his knees, sliding his hands under her ass, lifting her up off the bed. She moaned softly and stretched her arms out to the side, clenching the covers in her fists as he thrust in and out of her roughly. He held her gaze until she arched her back, closing her eyes and murmuring his name over and over. He could feel her pulsing around him and he thrust in hard one last time and cried out with his own release. He lowered her to the bed and turned onto his back and lay next to her, breathing hard. He closed his eyes tightly and felt tears spring up, turning his head away from her.

He felt her turn and then place her hand on his chest. "Chip," she whispered. He rolled onto his side, his back to her, and he heard her sigh. "I want to talk to you," she said, putting her hand on his back.

He didn't say anything right away, then swallowed. "You can talk," he murmured.

After a moment, she did just that. "I'm sorry. First of all, I need you to know that. I really did feel like I was in a no-win situation and I'm so terrible at lying. I thought I could just do this a few times, get them to leave me alone, and be done with it. And that it wouldn't be a big deal, you know?" He held his breath, thinking she was really about to tell him it was a big deal after all. "It _was_ a big deal, but not the way you think." She was rubbing his back with her hand. "I hated it, the whole time. I mean, Daniel is a lovely person, but I don't know that I would have dated him under different circumstances. We had some fun, but it was never going to be anything serious. At least from my perspective." She sighed again. "I really did want to tell you before this, but, you know, you were being such a jerk." He heard a little amusement in her voice. "Kind of a jackass, actually."

He turned to face her then. "I was pissed, Connie," he said.

"I know you were. You made that really, really clear." She raised up on her elbow and put her hand on his chest. "I don't want to be with anyone but you," she said, her voice soft and quiet.

He had to ask. "Did you sleep with him?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Did you sleep with _her_?"

"No."

She breathed in and then out. "Same." She let her hand move to his face, her fingers lightly scratching his cheek. "I couldn't. I didn't want to." She sighed. "I was trying to tell you today, Chip, that there's love that can withstand anything, can stand the test of time. I think we're like that. I _believe_ we're like that." Her eyes were searching his. "Don't you?"

He breathed in. "I'm still pissed that you did this to us," he said. She opened her mouth to respond and he put a finger over her mouth. "I get why you thought you had to. I get it that I was a…jackass about it. But it felt like, I don't know, like you were…punishing me. That because I wouldn't leave…her that you were going to show me how it felt. And I'll admit it. It sucked."

She shook her head. "I was _not_ doing that." She sighed. "But I guess I can understand why you might have thought that." She bit down on her lip. "I _love_ you, Chip. I don't want anyone else but you. I hated all this…distance between us. I _missed_ you. So much." She rubbed her hand on his chest. "How much longer are you going to make me beg?" she asked.

He breathed in, then rolled over towards her and kissed her, putting his hand on the back of her neck, letting himself relax into the kiss, tasting her mouth, feeling her tongue against his and her breath against his cheek. He finally pulled his lips from hers, then gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I think we can be done," he said, and gave her a little smile.

She let her hand drift down his side, not taking her eyes off his. "You're my guy," she said. She looked down for a moment, then back at him, a serious look on her face. "All this just confirmed it for me. I wanted it to be _you_ standing next to me, _you_ going to that benefit with me. Or I just didn't want to go at all, if it couldn't be with you. And I get it that we're not quite there yet." She leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers. "I'm here, with you, right where I want to be. I love you."

He breathed in, his heart beating faster. "I love you too, baby," he said. "Have since the minute I laid eyes on you. But I don't ever want you to feel like this is too much. 'Cause if it is, you need to tell me and I'll let you go. I'll walk away for good. I don't want you to miss out on anything, 'cause you deserve the best."

She smiled. "Then I guess I'm where I want to be." She took a deep breath and he could see her lip start to tremble. "Do you forgive me?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

He shook his head. "Nothing to forgive." He looked at her closely. "You forgive _me_?"

She put her hand on his cheek. "Nothing to forgive."

He stared at her for a long time, then took a deep breath and rolled her onto her back, nestling himself between her legs. He slid his hands under her back, balancing on his elbows just above her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her, taking his time exploring her lips, her tongue, her mouth. When he finally pulled away, he gazed down at her and she suddenly burst into tears.

He frowned. "What's wrong, baby?" he asked, filled with concern.

She took a deep breath. "I hated the distance between us," she said, her voice quivering. "Being together but not really. Seeing you on set and nothing being the same. We didn't talk like we always had, sharing what we thought. Everything was so stiff and formal and we'd just…argue." She looked at him, a deep sadness in her eyes. "I hurt you, I know that. And I hated it. Because the truth of the matter is, it wasn't worth all that, in the end. That wasn't what I wanted. _You_ were."

He sighed. Yes, he'd been pissed. He'd been hurt. He had wondered what would happen. What _could_ happen. He had considered that the choices he'd made could cost him the woman he loved. The love of his life. He bit his lip and felt the dampness of tears in his eyes. Then he felt something shift inside him. "I'll leave," he said quietly. "I'll leave her."

She looked shocked but then she shook her head. "You can't, Chip."

"Course I can. I'll just do it."

She put her hand on his cheek and sighed. "No, I won't let you do that. You'd just resent me, eventually, if you give up your commitment." She gave him an encouraging smile. "We'll get through it. But I don't want you to not be there for your kids. I know that's important to you and I support you in that."

He breathed out. He would do it, though, for her, so she would know she came first for him. "You change your mind? You tell me. If that's what you need me to do, I'm all in."

She smiled again, scratching his cheek lightly with her fingers. "I love you for that, but we'll be okay." She trailed a finger over his lips. "I love you, Chip Esten."

He smiled and then leaned down to kiss her. "I love you, Connie Britton." Then he kissed her on the forehead and rolled onto his back. He looked over at her. "As much as I'd love to make love to you right now, it's very late and I think we both need some sleep."

She nodded. "I think you're right." She rolled over and tucked into his side, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She laid her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest, sliding one leg over his. "Sweet dreams, my love," she murmured.

He kissed her forehead again. "Dreams of you, sweetheart," he whispered back. And then he fell almost immediately into the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

* * *

The sun streaming in through the uncovered windows woke him up the next morning. He squinted and then closed his eyes again. At some point during the night, they must have gotten under the covers, although he couldn't remember doing that. He had to smile though, because Connie was still in the same position she'd been in when they fell asleep. He allowed himself to just feel how she felt, her skin against his, her hand lying flat on his chest. Her leg was splayed over his and he could feel the heat of her core pressed against his thigh. He breathed in slowly, not thinking about anything except how glorious it felt to have her in his arms again.

Suddenly she made a little gasping noise and he opened his eyes. She raised her head and looked at him, her hair messy around her face. "What time is it?" she asked, her voice groggy with sleep.

He turned his head and looked at the clock. "Eight thirty-ish," he said and then looked back at her. "You working today?"

She shook her head. "No. You?"

He nodded. "Scene with Clare. Noon call time." He shifted himself so he was laying on his side, facing her. "We should be getting the next script today."

She nodded. "Yep." She smiled a lazy smile. "The wedding."

He smiled back and kissed her. "Yep." He was fully aroused by then and pressed himself against her suggestively. "You ready for this?" He raised an eyebrow."

She reached down and wrapped her hand around him. "I'm always ready for this," she said, with a seductive smile. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Then she looked into his eyes, her expression serious. "I love you, Chip," she said. "I'm not interested in dating anyone. I just want you to know that. Once and for all."

He didn't say a word, just rolled her over onto her back and entered her slowly, letting them both enjoy getting reacquainted with each other's bodies, as they touched and kissed and stroked, all the places they loved about each other. And when she finally came and he followed right behind, they both felt pleasantly spent and reconnected.

He looked down at her, pushing her hair back off her face. "I missed you," he said.

She let her hands roam up and down his back. "I missed you too." She sighed. "I wouldn't blame you though, if you held me at arms' length. If it took some time to trust me again."

He thought about that. He hadn't known just how hurt he would feel, how angry he would be, when this had all started. And even though he realized it was his own actions that had likely set it all in motion, he'd come to the realization that he had never truly believed she would follow through on it. But he'd pushed her. He'd been a tool. And it wasn't fair of him to think she'd just go on lying to her friends about her personal life. So he looked back at her and shook his head. "I love you, Connie. That didn't change. But I promise that I'll be more cognizant of what this does to you." He rolled over then to lay beside her and they linked their fingers together.

"Thanks for letting me stay the night," she said. He squeezed her hand. Then suddenly he recalled the footsteps beside the alley and the whispered words from the night before.

He turned to her and frowned. "Who was that who walked by last night?"

She looked over at him and then back up at the ceiling. "I'm not positive, but I think it might have been Deb. I know she didn't ride back with us."

He closed his eyes. He had avoided looking at anyone in the transport, not wanting to see shock or condemnation in anyone's eyes. _Damn!_ "You sure?" He looked over at her.

She shrugged. "I'm not sure, but someone said she took an Uber to her hotel. Maybe it doesn't mean anything though."

He breathed in deeply, then sighed. "Hopefully, if it was her, she doesn't say anything."

She shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see." She looked over at him. "It's on me."

He frowned. "No, it's not." He squeezed her hand again. "We're in it together. No matter what." He sighed again. "I guess we need to be more careful. Or careful again."

She looked back up at the ceiling, then took a deep breath and sat up, pushing the covers away and sliding off the bed. "I need to get home," she said, her back to him. He looked over at her, framed in the window, the sunlight shining through and around her, so that he couldn't see anything more than her outline. When she was dressed she walked around and sat on the side of the bed next to him. He raised himself up on his elbows. "This was amazing," she said with a smile, leaning in and kissing him.

He put his hand on the back of her neck, holding onto the kiss. When he finally let her go, he smiled. "It _was_ amazing. _You're_ amazing."

She grinned. "I'll talk to you later." She got up and slid on her coat, turning around to give him a final smile. Then she picked up her purse and headed out the door, as he watched her. When he heard the door close, he laid back on the pillow and just smiled.

* * *

They made arrangements to meet at her trailer, two days later, to review the script for the wedding episode. She let him in and then closed the door behind him. "How do you feel about it?" she asked, before he'd even gotten a chance to sit down.

He turned to look at her, then took her hand and led her over to the bench. He sat, pulling her down with him. He could see how she felt. It was all over her face. He sighed. "I'm glad they actually get married," he said.

She rolled her eyes and made a face. Then she gave him a lop-sided smile. "I swear, you're the original Pollyanna, you know that?" she said, with a laugh. "I can always count on you to find the tiniest little nugget of goodness in the deepest pile of shit, can't I?"

He shrugged. "I don't see it quite that way, but sometimes you really do have to look for the silver lining. They get married, Connie. And it means we'll get to keep having scenes together."

She breathed in and shook her head. "Does it? I mean, I saw Deacon behaving a little bit like a stubborn child and Rayna just kind of 'la la la's' through it all, like it doesn't matter. Deacon hits a cameraman, which personally I don't blame him" – she gave him a side-eye – "but then she just sort of sweeps it under the rug like 'oh well, that's just my guy'. I mean, really? The woman who lied to him for all those years about their child because she was afraid of his temper and now she's okay with it?"

He sighed. She was on a roll, for sure, and he was feeling kind of protective of his character. "I don't know, Connie, maybe she realizes now that he's always gonna be that passionate guy, the one who wants to take care of people and just doesn't always think it through first. I don't see it as him being this dangerous guy" – he used his fingers to make air quotes – "just a man taking care of the people he loves. And, I guess, sometimes taking action first and thinking later." She looked away from him. "You don't think Maddie's just making a mountain out of a molehill?"

She raised her eyebrow. "I hardly think it's a molehill." She sighed and then reached out to tap his knee. "Look, hon, I know it's not you doing this, it's the way the writers are choosing to write the characters." She sat back and crossed her arms and her legs. "I just think they're trying to throw in as many soap opera storylines as they can. I mean, they're almost ruining characters. They've ruined Juliette, in my opinion. They've turned Maddie into a mean-spirited, bratty teenager, although that might not actually be too far off from reality." She rolled her eyes with a quick smile. "But these storylines are ridiculous. I can't believe how far we've moved from where we started."

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't badmouth the show, the writers, the storylines, in public. He felt very much that part of his job was to be a cheerleader for the show and he was also conscious of the fact that it was his meal ticket, a very nice one at that. But he was also very well aware, because he spent time on social media, that the fan base wasn't happy. At least not about everything. Ratings were going down and that wasn't a good sign. Being in Nashville and out of the middle of the LA TV scene meant that they were mostly isolated from a lot of the chatter, but he knew they were on a slippery slope. But with Connie, he could be honest.

"You're right," he said. "It's not the show we started. I feel like Deacon's lost some of that strong, voice of reason temperament. He's always been – how did they describe it? – volatile, but there was context to it. It feels kind of like we're moving a little away from that." He sighed. "I actually think he wants to protect Rayna, not have her have to deal with everything about him she thought she'd left behind. He loves her too much to want to disappoint her again. I kind of think the fact that she stood up for him shows that she recognizes who he is and who he's always been and that the best parts of him, the parts she always loved, are still there."

"Maybe you're right. About _that_ , anyway." She sighed and turned away from him. "I hope this is the end."

He felt a quiver of anxiety. "The end of what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. This group of writers. These storylines. The show." She looked back at him then. "I have mixed feelings. But I will say this is not where I thought we'd be four years in."

He breathed in deeply. "I don't think any of us did."

She reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his. "I appreciate how you put up with me. But I care. Deeply. This show, and its message, those things were important to me, back in the beginning. There was something special about the idea of this. About strong women in a business that's not really kind to them. About standing up for yourself and what you believe in. And, even though I may not be the best singer in the group, I love the whole idea of how songwriting is storytelling and _that_ was what this was about. None of that really exists anymore. It's paternity secrets and comas and death and, you know, _pig's blood_."

He wanted to bring her out of her funk. "But Deacon and Rayna are getting married."

She frowned at him. "Yes, they are, and that's fantastic, but how long will they be happy? That's what I'm wondering." She sighed and then she gave him a tiny smile. "I'm glad you're back. I really missed _this_. I really missed _you_." She leaned in to kiss him.

"I missed you too." He breathed in. "But I worry."

"About what?"

"About you. About what just happened with us. About the future." He pulled his hand from hers and put his elbow on the back of the bench, his fist to his head. "I feel like things sort of shifted these last couple months."

She turned to face him, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I think you're right," she said. "I mean, I still love you, but I think we have to consider that we're not really living in this bubble. We're not exactly on the same page or in the same place as we were." She rested her head on her chin. "I _do_ want more, Chip. Putting myself out there made me realize I deserve more. I don't mean that I want a different relationship, but I want to stretch myself, creatively and in my world view. I need to step out more, not just apart from you, but apart from any man. Can you live with that?"

He felt a heaviness in his chest. "Are you saying you still need a break?"

She shook her head. "I'm not saying that. But it's the same for you. You're doing this music thing – writing songs, performing, all of that – and I know it feeds your soul. You should keep doing it, see where it leads you. This won't last forever, you know that. Whether it's this year, or two years from now, or five years from now, it'll end." She sighed. "I know _I_ won't be here five years from now. Maybe not even _two_ years. And when that happens, we don't know where we'll be on this journey."

He sat up and leaned forward, looking down at the floor, clasping his hands in front of him. She was right, of course. The show would not go on forever. He would be happy if it did – he loved playing Deacon, loved being in Nashville, loved the steadiness of the job. He wasn't a young actor anymore. Roles were more limited for men of his age. That this one had turned into far more than he could have hoped for in the beginning was a gift. But she had been part of that gift and it felt like she was leaving him.

He looked up. "You kissed me on the bridge that night. You followed me to my hotel. You stayed with me all night. Are you saying it's not going to last? That _we_ aren't going to last?"

She sighed. "I'm just saying that I feel like the end is coming. Sooner than we might want. And things will change. Things always change." She reached out one hand and put it on his arm. "My feelings for _you_ won't change. But whenever the end of this happens, we'll have to figure out what's next. And if you're not ready, or I'm not ready, for that, then it may not be what we thought. I think we've been careful, Chip, not to be too definitive about any of that, to be respectful of the fact that we're sort of living in kind of a parallel world or in between worlds, or something. We're not having to make a life together and figure out all of this. We get to have the best of each other, at least most of the time." She gave him a little smile then. "We're in that place where we're not having to deal with all those mundane things, like fixing dinner or cleaning up after a sick child or paying bills and stuff. We have all the beautiful parts, like holding hands and kissing and making the most amazing love to each other." She smiled again. "That's not real life. Or at least not all of it."

He rubbed his face and then looked at her again. "I'm gonna be there though. When it's all over. I'm gonna be there."

She rolled forward on her knees then, putting her arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss him. "That's what I want too. I really do. I just want us to be realistic."

He looked deep in her eyes and then he kissed her back. "I love you, baby. And that's as real as it can get."

"I'm not giving up. I want you to know that. But I'm also feeling restless. About everything else. I just need you to know that too." She sat back then and reached for her phone, holding it up. "So, I think maybe it _was_ Deb Fordham. I saw that she tweeted she was taking a Twitter break." She took a beat. "And she unfollowed me."

He frowned, but picked up his phone. He hit the Twitter app and went to Deb's profile. He looked up at Connie. "She's not following me anymore either."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I'm sorry for the delay in posting. I ran into a little bit of writer's block. I powered through it, though, and I hope you like what I came up with._

When he woke up, he smiled to himself. He and Connie were getting married later that day. Well, it was actually Deacon and Rayna, but he allowed himself a pass to imagine that it was the two of them and not just their characters. He and Connie had talked about the wedding shoot before they had left for the Thanksgiving break.

" _Seems like it all goes off without a hitch," he said, as they sat on the Bluebird set after they'd finished filming the rehearsal dinner scene. She cut him a look. "Well, the actual wedding part." He smiled._

 _She rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised they actually allowed that, to be honest. I mean, everything else goes so haywire."_

 _He clasped his hands on the table and sighed. "Maybe we should just be grateful we're getting to do this at all," he said, lowering his voice._

 _She nodded and gave him a quick smile. "You're probably right." She reached over and patted his arm. "I'm actually looking forward to it, you know?"_

 _He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" She nodded. "Because they finally ran out of excuses not to?"_

 _She smirked. "That too, I guess." She breathed in and flattened her hands on the table. She looked over at him. "I don't know. I guess it's just kind of…sweet, you know? Thinking that they can finally be together, the way they wanted to be."_

 _She looked wistful and he couldn't help but think about whether a little bit of that was because it wasn't actually the two of them. They'd never really talked about that. Never really talked about what happened whenever the end came. They talked about wanting to be together, but it was always a nebulous thing, never defined. He supposed the assumption both of them had was that, when Addie left home, that's when he'd make some decision. But that assumed the show was still going on. If it wasn't, he had no idea where that left them. He had grown attached to the city of Nashville and the musical opportunities, opportunities he didn't want to walk away from. But she would leave, he knew that. Her life wasn't here. It had never really been here, not for the long haul anyway._

 _He looked over at her, trying to tamp down those feelings of anxiety about things he had no control over. "Why do you think it was so important now, when they never got married in the beginning?" he asked._

 _She looked thoughtful. "I have to think it was because of Deacon's drinking." She turned to look at him. "Rayna's a very traditional woman, in spite of everything, and I believe it probably always nagged at her back then, that she wanted to marry him, that it wasn't in her nature to just live with a man for all those years without making that commitment. It was clear that kind of thing mattered to her." She sat back in her chair. "Why do_ _you_ _think they never got married before?"_

" _I think he wanted to. I think in the beginning they were more focused on their career –_ _her_ _career – and then he started getting in trouble with drinking and rehab and disappointing her. That's when I'm guessing he sort of stopped thinking he was worthy of her. If he'd really been sober when he asked her back when she got pregnant, then I think they'd have gotten married then, but obviously that didn't happen."_

 _She nodded. "Marriage is a big deal. Not something to take lightly, if you're gonna do it."_

 _He frowned. "You don't think it's necessary?"_

" _Not always. I'm not as traditional as Rayna though."_

" _Would you have made a different decision when you got married?"_

 _She shrugged. "Maybe. I was a whole lot younger though, and that's just what you_ _did_ _in those days." She laughed. "I thought I was in love, but I wasn't. Not really. Not that 'meant for a lifetime' type of love." She breathed out. "How can you really know when you're that young? Truthfully, I think it's kind of amazing that Deacon and Rayna could have known when they were so young that their love was forever."_

 _He nodded. "It is kind of unusual, for sure. But I think it was the creative thing that kind of sealed the deal. Making music together kept the love alive."_

 _She nodded slowly. "It's a fairytale for sure. That once in a lifetime kind of thing."_

 _He bumped her shoulder. "Listen to you, being the hopeless romantic," he said, with a chuckle._

 _She made a face and swatted at his arm. "I_ _am_ _a romantic," she cried. "I've always been. I believe in the magic of true love." She breathed in. "You know that."_

 _He nodded. "I do know that," he said, keeping his voice low._

He couldn't help but wonder if maybe one day a wedding would be in the cards for them. Although they talked about being together, they'd never gone so far as to say what might happen that day in the future, when both of them could be available. Ever since the Daniel Lindley situation, he couldn't completely set aside the thought that she might want more, and that it might be before he was ready. He wouldn't hold her back – he'd told her that – but he wanted her to wait. Or maybe he'd need to leave before then. He'd meant it when he told her she only had to ask. But only time would tell, he guessed.

* * *

They sat together on the ride out to the Green Door Gourmet, the week after they got back from Thanksgiving break. It was a chilly day and the next couple days of the shoot promised to be just as chilly. She shivered just a little and he looked over at her. She smiled. "You ready for this?"

He nodded and smiled. "I think so. You?"

She nodded. "It almost feels…real, you know?" He nodded. "I guess I just feel like we've invested so much of ourselves into this…this onscreen relationship and it's bled over into _our_ lives." She looked at him and he could see a lot of emotion in her eyes. It also caused him to wonder if it was that investment that caused everything else that had happened to the two of them to happen, at least from her vantage point. That gave him pause. It was something he'd never considered, never contemplated, that the love might not be real, that it might be an offshoot of the onscreen relationship.

It made him feel a little unsettled and he turned to look out the side window. They were quiet the rest of the ride.

They took a walk on the grounds of the farm, also used as an event space, located on the west side of Nashville along the river. There was a brisk breeze, as there often was in Nashville this time of year, and the trees were bare. The sun was out, though, and the sky was a cloudless brilliant blue. He breathed in. "You ever think that it was the characters that led us to be together?" he asked, finally. He felt like he needed to know.

She looked at him and frowned a little. "I'm not sure what you mean," she said. "I mean, yeah, that's why we worked together closely in the beginning. But are you asking if I wanted to _be_ with you because of Deacon and Rayna?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess, well, _you_ said something about the relationship bleeding over into our lives."

She sighed and then slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "That's not what I meant. I think we pour ourselves into _them_ , to be honest. What's on the screen is often Chip and Connie, not just Deacon and Rayna." She squeezed his arm with her hand. "I was intrigued by you when I first saw you, before I ever really got to know you." She smiled. "Something about you made my heart pitter patter." She laughed.

He couldn't help but smile. "Pitter patter?" he asked. "Really?"

She smiled up at him. "Really. I mean, of all the people they could have chosen to play Deacon, I walk in and it's you. I remember thinking you looked exactly like Deacon should look, but then when I met you, you were nothing like that dark, broody character. You were funny and kind and fun-loving. And sensitive. I just felt a connection right away. Some of it was because you were a parent too and some of it was because we were both here, away from the familiar." She bumped his shoulder. "But truthfully, I sort of forgot how to breathe when I was around you," she said softly.

He breathed in slowly and closed his eyes for a second. Then he cleared his throat. "You know I had a crush on you before I ever met you," he said. He knew that sounded so middle school-ish. "I kind of forgot how to breathe too, truthfully."

She grinned. "A crush, huh?"

He smirked. "You knew that. Not new news." He breathed in again and then smiled. "I knew, that night I came over, that something would happen. Not that night, but sometime."

She nodded. "Yeah." She slid her hand out and put it in her pocket, looking down at the ground. "I think we should head back, don't you?"

He breathed in. "Yeah," he said and they headed back towards the main building. As hard as it was, sometimes, for them to delve into the past and how they got to where they were, it was harder still to really talk about the future. He thought that as long as that was true, that there might always be some uncertainty.

* * *

They would be filming scenes first out by the river, the wedding rehearsal scenes. He had finished in makeup before she did and had gone ahead and gotten dressed in the clothes he'd be wearing for the rehearsal scene. He walked around the event space, where most of the wedding scenes would be filmed. He thought it was the perfect space for the intimate wedding of Deacon Claybourne and Rayna Jaymes.

"So, you nervous, mate?"

He turned at the sound of Sam Palladio's voice behind him. He grinned. "Me? Nah. Deacon?" He raised his eyebrows. "Probably scared shitless."

Sam laughed. "He probably figures it will all go to hell in a handbasket, yeah?"

Sometimes he forgot Sam was British. He did a better than average job at his faux Southern accent on the show and it was easy to assume he was from around the area. "I think that's Deacon's general fallback position about most everything, yeah," he said, with a smirk.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "I guess the good news is that Deacon does end up with the girl," he said.

He saw Connie walk up then, holding something in her hand. She put a smile on her face. "Hey, Sam," she said.

Sam grinned. "Hey there, Connie." He noticed then that she had a shovel in her hand and apparently Sam did too. "Gonna bury those old boyfriends, huh?" he asked, nodding at the shovel.

She held it up and laughed. "Something like that," she said.

"Well, I'm gonna head on. I bet you two want to work on timing, or something." He couldn't help but think Sam gave them a knowing look, although he wasn't sure if it was still the questions about who had seen them the night of the bridge shoot and what, if anything, might be the ultimate fallout. He and Connie hadn't really discussed it since, but it never quite left his mind. They both watched as Sam headed out. Then she turned to him, holding up the shovel.

"I found this," she said, with a smile. "Which makes sense, since it's a farm, after all." She gave him a teasing look. "I thought it might be fun to do a Deacon and Rayna shot like that old picture with the two serious faced farmers. You know the one, right? 'American Gothic'?"

He hadn't been sure where she was going with that at first. "Oh, yeah, I know it." He made a face. "How are we gonna do that? A selfie?" He wasn't exactly sure how that would work.

She gestured to him, shaking her head. "Come here. I got one of the photographers to agree to do it." She smiled. "I thought it would be a hoot." She led him around the corner.

* * *

He had to admit, later, that it was kind of fun. It certainly showed her fun side, the one he wasn't sure people really knew. They stood in front of one of the paneled walls. She held the shovel and they stood together. He put his arm around her shoulder and he felt her hand against his back. "Think of something very sad," she whispered. Of course, he drew a blank, and the shot the photographer got had him laughing. She turned towards him and punched his arm. "Chip," she said sternly.

Then they both got silly, unable to stop laughing long enough to get a good shot. But finally the photographer got a picture that turned out exactly as she envisioned it and he had to admit it was a fun shot. She set the shovel down and he leaned into her ear. "Okay, now go get all pretty so we can do this." She turned and smiled up at him, giving him a pat on the chest before she walked off to head to wardrobe.

* * *

He was waiting for her along the river bank at the back end of the property. He grinned. "You ready to practice getting married?" he asked.

She grinned. "Absolutely." She looked up towards the sky, squinting, then back at him. "It's sure a beautiful day for it."

He raised up his shoulders, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. "Kind of chilly though." He looked around. "You wanna practice the dip?"

"You won't drop me now, will you?"

He shook his head. "Not a chance." She stood in front of him and he put one hand around her waist and the other at the base of her neck, then he leaned her down towards the ground and held her there, longer than she expected. She gasped and grabbed his arms.

"Chip!" she cried, as she laughed. "Stop teasing!"

He laughed too and raised her back up. "Was that good?" he asked.

She shook her finger at him and pretended to frown. "That was a little worrisome. Isn't it supposed to be a quick down and back up?"

He shrugged. "I was thinking I might kiss you, or something." She gave him a look. "I know, it's not in the script, but" – he smiled – "it might be a fun little add."

"We'll see," she murmured. Then she turned and waved towards the other cast and crew headed their way. "Let's have a wedding rehearsal, y'all!" she called out and laughed, looking back at him with a happy smile on her face.

* * *

He was standing at the back of the venue, waiting for the crew to set up the lighting. It was raining outside, but Callie had said they'd adjust that during editing. There was movement in his peripheral vision and he turned to see Connie, dressed in Rayna's wedding dress, her hair and makeup done. He had a minute to gaze at her before she saw him and he thought he'd never seen anyone more beautiful than her. She turned and saw him then and smiled a little shyly, as she walked up.

She put a hand on his arm. "Hey," she said. "Don't you look handsome."

He breathed in and smiled back. "Don't you look gorgeous."

She looked down, smoothing her hand down her abdomen. "It's a beautiful dress." She looked back at him. "I kind of feel like I'm a real bride." She breathed in, pressing her hands against her waist. "I'm glad we're getting to do this. Together."

He nodded. "Me too." He wanted to reach out and put his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her neck, breathe in her scent, make her shiver with anticipation. Maybe make her heart pitter patter.

"It's kind of like a fairytale," she said softly. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to stand in front of a room full of people and marry this woman, the way Deacon was going to marry Rayna. He wondered, again, if their journey would ultimately lead them there, the way this fictional one had. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I…it's a dream come true. It feels a little like the planets all aligned for them, finally."

She nodded. "I was thinking about the day I got married. I don't even remember what I was thinking that day anymore. But I know Rayna's thinking that in some ways she never thought she'd get this, she was always afraid something would forever keep them apart. But she also thinks that it was inevitable, that it would always lead to this." She smiled at him. "I think that's the message. That real love wins. That one day we get it all. Don't you think?"

He breathed in, his chest feeling tight and the tears behind his eyes pressing against them. "I do," he said, finally. He nodded. "I do believe that."

She smiled a little more. "Then I think we do them justice. We let all that love shine through, for them. Let it be real, for them."

He blinked and smiled back at her. "We can do that."

* * *

It didn't matter how many times they had to do retakes, how many times he had to say Deacon's vows, how often they had to change a placement, it felt like there was no one there but the two of them. As he watched her walk up the aisle, her eyes on his, he couldn't stop looking at her. He could see the love in her eyes, not just Rayna's love for Deacon, but Connie's love for him.

It felt like a real wedding, even if, in the end, they were still Chip Esten and Connie Britton, two separate people. He felt his words deep in his heart. When Deacon told Rayna that he'd known they were meant for each other the first time he saw her, he was speaking those words from his own heart. He could see the emotion in her eyes, knew the words touched her in a very personal way. The way they were intended.

After the dip, when he looked in her eyes, he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't in the script, but his emotions took over. In the end he was glad he'd done it. He knew they had made it real.

* * *

When the scene was over, he could see she was filled with emotion. She walked off and he followed her. He touched her arm and she looked at him, tears in her eyes. "I need you tonight," she whispered. "Even if it's just for a little while." He nodded and then she hurried off towards her dressing room.

As arranged, he stopped by her house after the shoot. When she let him in, she put her finger against her lips. "I just got Yoby back down," she said quietly. "He was like a crazy person when I got home. I don't know why he was still awake, but he was. So I don't want him to know you're here."

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her. "I can be quiet as a mouse," he whispered against her lips. " _You're_ the one who gets, well, noisy."

She gasped and swatted him on the chest, then smiled up at him. "Maybe we'll just sit and talk then," she said.

He shook his head, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't think so. It's been too long since we've had a chance to be alone together." She took his hand then and led him into the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?" she asked. "I've got a new bourbon to try. Well, new to you. Yellow Rose. It's from Texas. I first tried it back in my 'I hate bourbon' days. Kyle sent it to me and I'd forgotten how good it is."

"Let's try it then." He watched as Connie poured and then he lifted the glass to his nose. "Interesting. I'm smelling caramel and cinnamon, right?"

She picked up her own glass and smiled. "Among other things. It's got a sweet smell and you get a hint of that in the taste, along with a smokiness and a real richness." She touched her glass to his and they both took a sip. She waited for his response.

He let the liquor sit on his tongue for a moment, then slide down his throat. There was a thick sweetness at first, then the smoky flavor followed, along with a wood note. It wouldn't be his favorite, but it was intriguing. "Nice," he said. "Tastes like you." He leered at her and she laughed, her face turning pink.

"Well, then," she said, taking another sip. "I'm not quite sure what to say to that."

He took another swallow and let the warmth build in his stomach. Then he leaned in and kissed her, letting his lips play over hers until she opened his mouth to his. He set down his glass and then she followed, as she stepped into his arms. He liked the flavor of the bourbon on her tongue and in her mouth. But he was thirsty for _her_. He let his hand slide up so that he could cup her breast, his thumb playing over her nipple. She moaned and then arched her back slightly, pressing against him.

He pulled his lips from hers, letting his thumb continue to rub her nipple. She looked up into his eyes and lightly bit her lip. He slid his other hand down to her ass and pressed her against him, letting her feel how much he wanted her, how hard his erection was already.

"Oh," she whispered. She stepped back and reached for his hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

* * *

When they were in her bedroom, she turned towards him. He put his hands on her face and drew her to him, kissing her hungrily. When he let her go, he saw something in her face he hadn't expected. A fragility, a naked wistfulness, that cut through him like a knife. There were the hint of tears in her eyes as she looked at him with an undeniable longing. She laid her hand over her heart. "My heart felt so full today," she said, her voice low and soft. "It felt so real to me, Chip. I can't even explain it, I don't think."

He pulled her into his arms and held her close, feeling her arms slide around him and hold him tight. "It did feel real," he murmured into her hair.

They undressed each other slowly, their eyes locked on each other. He gently laid her back against the bed and then joined her, covering her body with his own. He linked his fingers with hers and moved her arms up above her head, letting his lips skim over hers, sliding them down over her neck and along her shoulder. She arched her back and made soft moaning sounds, one foot trailing up the back of his leg. He brought his lips back to hers, letting his tongue trace her lips until she caught his bottom lip with her teeth. He opened his mouth to hers and savored the taste of her. He let his fingers slide away from hers, trailing down to her waist, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted up slightly and then pushed inside her slowly, but forcefully. She moaned as she moved her hips from side to side, adjusting herself to take him in fully.

When he was finally buried completely inside her, he stopped, lifting himself up on his elbows and looking down at her face. A light pink blush ran across her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, and her lips were slightly parted. Her hands were laying gently on his shoulders and she gave him a tentative little smile, wide enough that he could see that tiny imperfection where one front tooth ever so slightly covered the very edge of the other. It made her look both innocent and incredibly sexy. He bit down on his lip and began to move inside her, feeling her warm wetness wrapping tightly around him.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly, gently rocking her hips as he moved in and out of her in short, powerful strokes. He watched her face as her arousal grew. He could see the pleasure building inside her, could feel her clenching him ever more tightly inside her. She started to make the little noises he knew so well, the ones that told him she was approaching the edge, that she was ready to come. He moved faster, in and out, not really wanting it to end, but feeling powerless to stop. He wanted to feel her release, feel his own, as they celebrated the love they felt for each other.

She gripped his shoulders then, gasping for breath, then softly crying out his name, over and over. He watched her face, watched her expressions, concentrated on how she felt around him, and then he lost control, crying out as he pushed in one last time, feeling himself empty out inside her. He collapsed onto her chest, breathing hard, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly against her. They lay like that for what felt like forever.

He finally pushed up on his elbows and looked down at her. In the dim light of the room, he could see tears on her cheeks and he frowned. "What's wrong, baby?" he asked. "Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head. "No," she whispered. She took a deep breath. "I feel like I'm living someone else's dream, like I'm experiencing everything through Rayna." She pressed her hand to his cheek. "I want to live those dreams for me."

He felt his chest tighten. He understood what she was saying, that what Rayna had – to be able to be with her true love and not have to hide it any longer – she wanted for herself. He smoothed her hair off her face and then leaned down and kissed her gently. "With patience and stubbornness, we'll find our way," he said, paraphrasing a line from Rayna's vows, and she gave him a tiny smile. "We will get there," he said. "I promise."

She nodded and then put her hands on his face and kissed him back. "I know," she said. She kissed him again and then smiled. "I know you need to get going. We have a long day tomorrow."

He smiled back. "Yeah, you're right." He rolled off of her and then sat up on the edge of the bed. She reached out and put her hand on his arm and he looked back at her. "I love you, Connie. Don't ever forget that."

"I know. And I love you too."

He got up and got dressed. When he turned back, she had pulled on a sweatshirt and yoga pants. He reached for her hand and they walked down the stairs together. They stood at the front door and he put his hands on her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. Then she reached up and finger combed his hair.

"Bed head, huh?" he asked with a smile.

She laughed. "The worst." She slid her arms around him and hugged him. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she said.

He gave her one last kiss, then headed out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

As he headed down the road for home, he thought about the way she had looked in that wedding dress. He knew she'd been involved in the design, because she told him about it. She looked stunning in the dress, her shoulders bare, the skirt fluttering around her ankles and feet, the look on her face and in her eyes as she approached him. He could hear Clare singing the song 'When The Right One Comes Along'. It always made him think about Connie. _You think you know what you're lookin' for / 'Til what you're lookin' for finds you._

He felt tears on his cheeks, as he drove through the darkness. Suddenly he pulled off onto the shoulder and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes, letting the tears trail down his face. When he finally got hold of himself, he pulled out his phone and called her.

"Well, hey there," she said, when she answered, sounding both surprised and happy to hear from him.

He took a deep breath and then let it out. "I want to make your dreams come true," he said. "I want _this_ dream to come true."

"Chip…."

"I do, Connie. I have a plan. I know we haven't really talked about it, but I have a plan. I'm leaving when Addie goes to college. Well, unless you want me to leave sooner. But that's my plan. No later than that. And then I want to marry you. If you want to do that. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy, giving you what you deserve, being able to stand in public with you and say 'this is the love of my life, the woman I love with all my heart'. That's my plan." He'd said it all almost without taking a breath, wanting to put it all out there for her.

She was quiet on the other end and then he heard her breath in. "Oh, Chip," she murmured, and he could hear tears in her voice. "I don't know what to say."

"Say that's what you want too." He held his breath. He'd put himself out there, thinking it was what she needed to hear. He just hoped he wasn't wrong.

"Of course I do. I just, oh, I don't know, I guess I just always thought it was, you know, understood." Then she let out a soft little laugh. "You really would want to get married again? So soon?"

He breathed out and smiled, then chuckled a little. "If _you_ do. We don't have to do that." He breathed in. "I know a lot could happen, things change, the show could get cancelled, they could still kill me off…."

"Oh, I don't think they'd ever kill off Deacon," she said, with a hearty laugh. "Half our audience would vanish overnight. Your fans would be heartbroken."

He had to laugh. "I don't know about that. But you know what I mean. I know anything could happen. But it's my plan. And I just wanted you to know I had one. That my plan is to make your dreams real."

"You have dreams too, my love. I want to make yours real too." He heard her sigh. "I love you. I hope you know how much. I hope you know it's the most real thing in my life."

"I love you too. And that's the most real thing in my life too." He sighed. "I know my life is more complicated. And it gets in the way more times than not." He bit down on his lip. "I have a plan, Connie, but I'd change it for you. I'd do whatever you want."

"I love that you have a plan. But you know, anything could happen. Things could go sideways. Best laid plans and all that. And I don't mean it wouldn't happen, but, you know, the twists and turns of life might change the timing." She paused. "Or the intentions."

He didn't want to give up. Or consider things wouldn't work out. "It's still where I want to end up," he said, knowing he sounded a little stubborn.

"I know. I do too. All I'm saying is, let's not let detours hang us up."

He worked his lip for a moment. "I love you, Connie. That's what I know."

"I love you too." She paused. "So, where _are_ you?" He could hear a hint of amusement in her voice.

He chuckled softly. "About half a mile from home. Pulled over on the side of the road. I just had to call you. I needed you to know."

"I'm glad you did." She laughed. "Now, go on, go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

He grinned. "See you then."

* * *

His call time was later than hers the next day. She had scenes to film with Judith and the girls, post Rayna getting dressed. They would be filming reception scenes later in the day and then the evening scenes outside the venue, when Deacon and Rayna were leaving for their honeymoon. After he left wardrobe, he found her, sitting on one of the barstools, looking at her phone. She had a robe on over the wedding dress. He walked up behind her.

"Looking for a groom?" he said into her ear, keeping his voice low.

She gasped and then turned in her chair to face him, a smile breaking across her face. "As a matter of fact, I think I am," she said. She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back just slightly. "Have I told you enough times how handsome you look?"

He grinned. "I think you've told me once or twice. Have I told you enough times how gorgeous you are?"

She laughed, wrinkling her nose just a bit. She reached down and took the dress in her hand. "It's a good thing this is the last day I'm wearing this," she said. "It's getting kind of dirty along the hemline." He looked down and could see she was right. He looked back at her and she shrugged, a teasing smile on her face. "It's been fun though." He hopped up on the stool next to hers. "I wish they were spending more time on this though. I feel like it's been so compacted. The happy stuff, I mean." She waved her hand in the air and rolled her eyes. "They spent so much time on all the _drama_ " – she dragged the word out – "that they forgot the part the fans want to see. Deacon and Rayna being happy and going through all of the happy wedding stuff."

He nodded. "I guess we should be happy they _got_ a wedding."

She looked around the room, then leaned in closer. "It may be _all_ we're happy for. I've heard that they're working on some major obstacles for them."

He made a face. "What?"

She nodded. "Drama, drama, drama." She fidgeted with her hair. "I'm really at my wits' end with this, Chip. This is so not what I signed on for." She fidgeted with her hair again and frowned. "And I have to say, I really hate whatever these strands of hair are." She slid off the stool and gave him a tiny smile. "I would just wear my hair down."

He raised his eyes and smiled. "I'd be good with that." Then he watched her hurry off.

* * *

The last scene they filmed at Green Door was Deacon and Rayna leaving for their honeymoon. It was freezing, at this point, as they ran down the stairs for about the fifth time. Connie was gripping his hand tightly and he could practically hear her teeth chattering. They finally let them get into the truck and drive off.

When they pulled over, he looked at her. She had her arms wrapped around herself and was shaking. "Damn, it's cold," she said. "You'd think they'd have turned the heat on earlier in this thing, you know?" She looked back at him. "Don't you dare turn this thing off. I'm not getting out," she said, with a laugh. "Not until I've defrosted." She then clasped her hands and rubbed them together.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you think they'd do if we just took off?"

She laughed and lightly stomped her feet on the floor. "Oh, I dare you, Chip!" she cried. "Let's run away together, right now." She grinned at him. He put the truck back into gear and pressed on the accelerator. She squealed with glee as he drove forward about a hundred feet. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a crew member throw his hands up in the air.

"I would love to do it," he said, as he pressed on the brake. "Somehow I think there'd be some hell to pay for it though."

She shrugged. "Yeah, you're probably right." She breathed in. "Why don't we ride together to the lake house tomorrow? Just us."

He smiled. "I do like that idea." They would film the next night at the lake house, as they wrapped up the episode's final wedding scenes, as Deacon and Rayna started their honeymoon.

As he started to open his door, she reached across the console and put her hand on his arm. He stopped and looked back at her. "Thank you for last night," she said quietly. He nodded. "Especially for the call." Then she turned away and let herself out of the truck.

* * *

He pulled into her driveway and got out of the car, hustling down the walkway and up the front steps. He'd just reached the porch when the door opened. "Hey," she said with a smile, shutting the door and locking it. He put his hand on her arm and started to lean in, when she pushed him back with one hand. "Chip," she warned, giving him a stern look.

He frowned. "What?"

She raised her eyebrows and looked around, as though checking out the neighborhood. "People could be watching," she said. "I don't know everyone in the neighborhood and I'm sure some of them watch." That made him wonder about all the times he'd come over and whether any of her neighbors kept watch over the comings and goings at her house.

She scooted past him and down the steps. After a moment, he followed. He ran around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for her. She smiled at him as she got in. He walked around to the driver's side and got in. He looked over at her. "Sorry for not thinking," he said.

She put her hand on his arm and rubbed it. "It's okay. I'd hate to think they sit and watch. I hate to think even more that I actually think of myself as someone people _would_ watch, you know? I know the unwritten rule in this town is not to bother the celebrities, but somehow it feels like that doesn't apply to us."

He knew that was true. It was rare for him to be able to go anywhere anymore and someone not recognize him. They'd shout out his name – more frequently, _Deacon's_ name – and ask for autographs or a selfie. He tried not to ever dismiss a fan, though. "Yeah, I get it," he said. When they pulled out of the neighborhood, heading for the interstate, she slid her hand over and ran it down his arm. He moved his hand from the steering wheel, glancing over at her, and she linked her fingers with his.

* * *

After they finished hair, makeup, and wardrobe, they walked through the scene, as they waited for darkness. It wouldn't be long, as it got pitch black dark around five in the wintertime. When they finished the walk through, they sat on the porch steps, watching as the darkness started to sink down over the river.

"I know they're not real people," she said, her voice soft and contemplative, "but I hope that in their make-believe world, that they live together happily for the rest of their lives." He looked over at her. She was gazing out over the river, her arms wrapped around her waist. "That's what I hope." She looked at him then.

"I think he will love her and support her for the rest of his life."

She smiled. "I think you're right. And she'll finally give herself permission to acknowledge that he's her soul mate, the love of her life, and the only man she's ever truly wanted to be with." She reached up and ran her hands through her hair. "I feel bad for you that you have to pick me up and carry me in," she said, with a flirty smile.

He grinned back at her. "Please. You're light as a feather."

"Connie, Chip, we're ready." They both looked behind them and then he stood up, holding out his hand to help her up.

"Let's do this, Mrs. Claybourne," he said, with a laugh and she laughed with him.

* * *

He was telling the truth – she was light as a feather – and it was a good thing, since he had to do it five times before her arms were just right around his neck and he didn't accidentally bite her bottom lip when he kissed her and she didn't dissolve into giggles before they even made it through the door. But finally, it all went as planned. He kissed her a second time, before he lowered her to the couch, one that wasn't in the original script, but she kissed him back, so he thought she didn't mind. As they sat there for a moment, he thought again about his plan – _their_ plan – and hoped maybe they would have a moment like this in real life.

He was waiting for her now, standing in the great room with a pair of shorts on, a blanket wrapped around him. The one they would use for the scene. One they'd used before. He sensed her approach before she put a hand on the back of his arm. He turned as she stood beside him, wrapped up in a full length robe. "What are you wearing?" she asked.

He looked at her for a second. "Nothing." Her eyes got wide with surprise and then he smiled. "Shorts."

She rolled her eyes. "I've got this crazy body shaper on. Comes up to here" – she placed her palm just above her breasts – "and then it goes down to mid-thigh. Not the most comfortable thing." She breathed in and looked over at him. "You're the only person I've ever felt comfortable doing these kinds of scenes with. _You_ make me comfortable," she said, her voice soft.

He just smiled, not trusting his voice right then.

"Okay, guys, we're ready." The director came up to them. "Connie, we'll put you on the bottom and Chip, if you could lay as gently as you can on top of her? We'll try to get this as quickly as we can. I know it's not the most fun thing to do."

They looked at each other, then back at him and smiled a little. "It's okay," she said. "We've certainly done it before." She laughed a little, then looked at him with a wicked smile. "I'm just hoping he didn't overeat at Thanksgiving."

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I guess you'll have to wait and see," he said.

She walked over to the couch and untied the robe. She waited for the pillow to be arranged and then slid off the robe and handed it to one of the production assistants. He caught his breath. It was a beige colored whatever-she-called-it but it clung to her body like a second skin. He swallowed hard as he watched her sit on the couch and then arrange herself the way she was told.

"Your turn, Chip." He took a deep breath and walked over. Her eyes were on his. He was told where to position himself and he knelt on one knee, then straddled her legs. He lowered himself on her and then felt the blanket being arranged. She closed her eyes as they moved around, based on the instructions they were given.

He wanted to tell them to shut up, that they could figure out just exactly the right way for Deacon and Rayna to arrange themselves on the couch, because Chip and Connie had been doing it for years. Finally they seemed to like the way it looked. She opened her eyes and looked into his and he gave her a little smile. He leaned into her ear. "You look very, very sexy," he whispered.

He raised his head to look in her face. "Shut up," she whispered back, but she grinned as she said it.

"We're going to dim the lights, so most of what ends up on the camera will be just the suggestion of what's going on. Arms around each other, some kissing, then Connie, your hand on the back of Chip's head." The lights went down and they both smiled at each other. He leaned in and kissed her, letting his leg graze hers. He could feel the heat from her body and the soft touch of her skin and lips against his. He wanted to really kiss her, but stopped himself. He felt her fingers threading his hair on the back of his head, the way she'd done countless times before. He was gazing into her eyes, everything around them seeming to fade away. He could tell she was feeling the same and it made him catch his breath. Then they raised their hands, threading their fingers together, and the director called out, "Cut!"

The lights came up, the mood was broken, and Connie squinted, turning her head to the side. He slid his foot onto the floor and gently, albeit reluctantly, lifted himself off of her, pulling the blanket with him. She sat up on the couch and the assistant was instantly there with the robe, which she pulled on quickly. After she tied the belt, she looked at him and smiled shyly.

He thought about what she had said. He had been holding his soul mate, the love of his life, and the only woman he truly wanted to be with. The scene wouldn't be a long one, but he had put his total self into it, wanting it to be as real as he could make it. He loved this woman, the way Deacon loved Rayna, and he wanted that to be what people saw on their TV screens.

It would be a beautiful scene and he knew the fans would enjoy it.

* * *

It was after nine when they finished filming. He had changed into his regular clothes and scrubbed the makeup off his face. He was sitting on the porch steps, waiting for Connie, while behind him the crew was packing up. Because it was a night shoot and the space they had used inside was relatively small, he knew there wouldn't be as much moving of furniture for them. He'd been to the river house once, when they weren't filming, and was always surprised at how completely different it looked. It had an almost feminine look to it, with ornate brass beds and frilly bedspreads, and collections of knickknacks everywhere. A far cry from the rugged masculinity of Deacon's cabin. When he and Connie had spent a couple days filming out here, after Rayna learned about Deacon's cancer, the entire front yard of the house was filled with furniture from the great room. In order to turn the house into Deacon's hideaway, they needed to totally remake the look of the place.

When he heard footsteps, he turned. Connie was standing at the sliders, checking her phone. He stood up. "You ready?" he asked.

She looked up and smiled. "Yeah." He noticed she'd taken off all her makeup and was wearing her glasses. He smiled as he watched her focusing back on her phone. Without makeup, she looked younger than her age. She almost always wore her hair down around her shoulders, when she wasn't working, and he had the urge to run his fingers through it.

He pulled his keys out. "Let's go then," he said and waited for her to join him at the top of the steps. Then they walked the length of the porch and out to his car. He unlocked it and opened the door, letting her get in. Then he walked around and got in himself.

When they pulled out onto the road, she put her phone in her purse and then reached across and touched his arm. He glanced over. "I don't suppose there's anywhere we could go, for a bit," she said, biting her lip.

He was kind of glad she'd mentioned it. The couch scene had been pretty intense and it always got them hot and bothered for each other. But he was scrambling in his head to think of a place. "Um," he said out loud, stalling a little.

"Just like a park or something maybe," she said.

He laughed. That surprised him. "You mean like parking? Like teenagers?"

She laughed too. "I guess. Is that okay?" He threw his head back and laughed even harder. "Well, I can't very well invite you over. I mean, my babysitter is there, Chip." She frowned at him.

He looked at her and couldn't help but smirk at her frustration. "I understand, baby," he said. "But, I mean, we're edging close to fifty and we're gonna go _parking_?"

She shrugged and gave him a teasing smile. "Well, what else are we gonna do? We can at least do a little kissing."

He raised an eyebrow. "You gonna let me feel you up?"

She opened her mouth wide. "Chip Esten! You're gonna get me in trouble!"

He grinned. "That's the idea." Just then he saw a for sale sign along the road and a darkened house. He quickly turned in the driveway and pulled up closer to the house.

She reached across and grabbed his arm. "Chip! What are you doing?"

He glanced over at her. "This looks like it could be a vacant house. So I'm pulling over to park. Like you wanted." She smiled at him then. He pulled around to the back of the house where it overlooked the river. He turned off the car and turned out the lights. It was dark, except for the moon, moving in and out of the clouds, which shed a little light. He looked over at her. "This work for you?"

She peered across him and out the window. "It _does_ look empty." She leaned towards him and put one hand on the back of his neck and kissed him. He put a hand on her shoulder, thinking this was not comfortable. She pulled away then and he could see the frown on her face. "Consoles suck," she said. "It's too bad they don't make cars with bench seats anymore."

He tried pulling her back. "That's true." She pulled away though.

"This isn't going to work," she said. He sighed. She looked behind them, then back at him. "Let's get in the back seat."

"Really? So we _are_ gonna be like teenagers, huh?"

She shrugged and smirked. "Maybe." She turned and opened her door, hopping out and closing it, then getting in the back seat. He turned to look at her. She frowned. "Why are you still up there?" He shook his head, then got out and slid into the back seat next to her. She turned so she could throw her legs over his lap and then linked her arms around his neck. "See?" she said with a smile. "This is so much better, isn't it?"

He smiled at her, putting his arms around her waist. "I gotta admit, you're right," he said. Then he pulled her closer and started to kiss her, letting his lips first play over hers, then letting his tongue trace them, lingering there. Then he nipped at her bottom lip until she opened her mouth to his.

He let his hand drift up to cup her breast and she moaned in the back of her throat. It didn't take long before he could feel her nipple tighten through her bra and shirt. He tugged at it and she squirmed on his lap. He felt her fingers tracing up and down the back of his neck and heard her little moans. He moved his hand down between her legs, stroking her there.

She pulled her lips from his. "Oh, God, Chip," she murmured, her voice low and husky. Suddenly she moved so that she was straddling him, her arms around his neck, her hair like a curtain around their faces. He put his hand on the small of her back as she pressed closer, kissing him hungrily.

When she finally pulled her lips from his, he grinned at her. "You do like this making out thing, don't ya?"

She smiled back. "I do." She pecked his lips. "Let's do it some more." And so they did. He liked the feel of her on his lap, her arms around his neck. Then he put his arm on her back and his other hand under one of her legs, flipping her onto her back. He had one leg stretched out as far as it would go, between hers, and his other knee on the floor. She slid her hands to his face and then kissed him deeply.

As the kiss got steamier, he pulled her blouse from the waist of her jeans, sliding his hands underneath it, feeling her soft skin. He moved his lips to her neck and she arched her back, breathing hard as she moved beneath him. He pushed up one side of her bra with his thumb and then covered her breast with his hand. She moaned softly. He adjusted himself so he could put his mouth over her nipple and he started to lick and suck and she continued to arch into him, her hands cradling his head, making little noises of bliss.

He knew he was almost at the point of no return and he thought she probably was as well, based on the sound of her little cries, and there was no way he was having sex in the back of his car, even behind a vacant house. He pulled his mouth from her breast, finding his way back to her neck and then he murmured into her ear, "Baby, we gotta stop."

She whimpered just a little, then sighed. "I know," she said softly. He pushed himself up and moved to sit on the far end of the seat. He had a hard erection and knew he was going to need a minute – likely more – to get himself back under control. He closed his eyes and felt her sit up as well, probably adjusting her bra and blouse. He reached out and put a hand on her leg.

"I don't remember making out in the back of a car being quite like this," he said, as he breathed out slowly.

She laughed softly and took his hand. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. "It was fun, though, wasn't it?"

He grinned. "I gotta admit, I enjoyed it."

She put one hand on his cheek. "I just thought maybe we could do something, you know, fun. I mean, it's been kind of heavy the last couple days." He nodded and sighed, then put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her towards him for another long, lazy kiss. When they pulled away from each other, they both sat back and breathed out.

"Thanks for going along with me," she said.

He leaned his head back and smiled at her. "I didn't mind a bit."

She trailed her finger down his cheek, then pointed at the window and laughed. "We even steamed it up like a couple of teenagers." She leaned across him and made a heart with her finger on the glass. Then she sat back. "I guess we should head back. It's late and we've got one more day of filming tomorrow."

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He leaned in and kissed her one more time and then they both got out of the backseat and into the front. She ran her fingers through his hair, then sat back and gave him a satisfied smile.

"I love you," she said.

He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips. "I love you too," he said. He leaned over then and punched open the glove box. "I almost forgot. I have something for you." He reached in and retrieved a CD, handing it to her.

"What is it?"

"It's my latest. Called 'Finally Fine'. About us."

She held it against her heart. "I can't wait to listen to it."

* * *

It was the last day of shooting, the day before Christmas break. It had been a heavy episode for himself and Connie, with practically three-quarters of the scenes involving one or both of them. With it being Deacon and Rayna's wedding, and with all the drama surrounding it, the two of them had had more scenes together than they'd had in a long time, so they were content to just enjoy it.

They were filming a couple of morning of the wedding scenes, one in Rayna's kitchen, the other in Daphne's bedroom. He was sitting off to the side, checking his Twitter feed, liking a few tweets here and there. At the sound of footsteps, he looked up. "Hey," he said, and stood up.

She smiled and lowered her eyelashes just a bit as she looked at him. "I loved your song," she said, softly. "Thank you."

He could feel his heart beat a little faster. He loved writing for her and he always wanted to please her when he did. "It's the wish for the future," he said.

She nodded. "I could tell. 'I'm finally yours, you're finally mine, we're finally fine.' I love that." She sighed and smiled again. "We _are_ fine. And we will be."

He couldn't help but think about the words to the last verse. _They say that good things come to those who wait / And the road to what you want is always straight / The twists and turns will break your heart / And tear a lesser love apart / But they can't touch ours._ It had felt perfect. He knew he was projecting, but he believed they would finally be fine, be able to have the love – and the life – they both wanted. When all those stars aligned.

She bumped his shoulder and he looked back at her, an impish grin on her face. "I am so glad you're wearing a flannel shirt today," she said and he laughed.


	10. Chapter 10

It was three days after Christmas and they were back in Nashville. Filming wouldn't start until after New Year's. They wouldn't get the script for the new episode until right before the holiday. So he had been working on new music, trying to channel his energy into that. Connie wouldn't be back until the day after New Year's. They had talked and texted during the holidays, but it was a busy time for both so there hadn't been as much contact as he would have liked.

He was sitting at the kitchen island, reading the paper, drinking coffee. He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up. Patty came around the corner. She'd been more relaxed over the break, more relaxed with him. It was always that way, when she knew Connie wasn't in Nashville. She didn't hover as much or keep track of what he was doing, in the same way. She stopped at the counter and looked at him evenly. "I'm going to go run some errands. I probably won't be back until after lunch."

He nodded. "Sounds good." He cleared his throat. "Are we all going out for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah. Chase wants to go to Cork & Cow. You up for that?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Sounds good."

She grabbed a jacket from the hook by the back door and shrugged it on, then picked up her purse and keys. When she had her hand on the door knob, she turned back. "You got plans today?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not really. Writing is all, I guess. Might take Blue out for a run." He considered that. "Actually I will take Blue out for a run. I need to get back on that." He had slacked off on running over the break, but, with Deacon and Rayna married, he was thinking there might be more shirtless scenes and he'd need to be ready for that.

She gave him a ghost of a smile. "Okay. Well, I'll be back."

He just nodded and went back to the paper and his coffee, hearing the door open and then close. He waited a few minutes and then reached for his bag, where he kept his writing notebook. Because of the holidays, he didn't have any appointments, but he still tried to be diligent about capturing thoughts, ideas, verses and choruses, anything he could use when he got together with other songwriters.

He opened the notebook to the last page he'd written on. He'd jotted down something he thought was probably a chorus, during the Christmas week. They were spending time with family in Virginia and, while there was lots of laughter and fun and good times, he would sometimes find himself standing a little on the outside of the circle, watching everyone as though he were just a ghost in the room.

He'd thought back to the early days, when he and Patty had been married only a few years and the babies had started coming. They'd built this life that had felt strong and true and they had both been ecstatic when first Taylor came along and then Chase and finally Addie. They got caught up in the family life and, somehow, it felt like, being all the way across the country from their families, it was the two of them against the world. Things had been good then and he'd been in love and she had too. And then came Addie's diagnosis.

It hadn't happened all at once. In fact, it had been gradual enough that he almost didn't realize it at first. But one day he'd stopped and thought about the fact that they weren't spending time together anymore, as a couple. They were parents – and they were a team that way – but in their private times, they were more like roommates than lovers. The sex gradually disappeared from their lives and neither one made any real efforts to rekindle that. They still laughed together, shared stories and reminiscences, mainly including the kids, but it no longer felt intimate.

And eventually it became the new normal. He would look at Patty and see a beautiful, caring woman that he loved, as the mother of his children and as a friend, but he no longer had feelings of romantic love for her. He often wondered if that was just how it went, in marriages. Having grown up as the child of divorce, though, he hadn't wanted that for his own children. Even though he'd had good relationships with both his parents, it was as he'd told people, there was a void, a gap, a hole, where his father had been. Not having him there in his life on a daily basis had made him feel incomplete and he'd often wondered if he had overcompensated in his life by trying to be the entertainer, whether it was music or comedy or acting.

It really hadn't been until he'd met Connie that he'd felt some sense of peace and a realization that he hadn't felt that way for a very long time. He and Patty had just been dancing around the life they were now leading. It had felt comfortable, easy, with no reason to rock the boat. Until Connie.

He looked down at the notebook and the words he'd jotted down later that night in Virginia. He'd marked through and erased and reworked them since, but as he read them through, he liked what he had. It made sense. It was his reality. _We are always dancing all around it / Losing each other for so long / We didn't notice the last note had sounded / We keep holding on / Even though the song is gone._ He wanted to use it, felt like there was something there he could build on. He had a writing appointment late in that first week of the new year and he planned to bring it to that appointment.

He put the notebook away and got up from the chair. He went and changed into running clothes. As soon as he appeared back in the kitchen, Blue jumped up from where he'd been laying in front of the fireplace and trotted over to his side. He smiled down at the dog. "Ready to run, buddy?" he asked, and Blue bounced around on his paws, his mouth open and his tongue flapping around, almost as though he were smiling too. He picked his phone and wallet up and grabbed his keys and the leash. "Let's go!" And they headed out the door for the car.

* * *

It was a chilly day, but the sun was out and the sky was a brilliant clear blue. He had gone about a mile and a half when he felt his phone vibrate against his hip. He stopped, reining Blue in, and pulled the phone out. He smiled when he saw it was a text from Connie. _Call me if you can. Have some news._ He quickly pressed the call button and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Well, hey there. That was quick," she said when she answered.

"I'm out on a run," he said. "So what's up?"

"I'm coming back early."

That _was_ good news. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Something going on you need to get back for?"

She laughed softly, that sexy, husky laugh of hers. "You."

He grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"Well, I missed you. It feels like it's been a long break."

It did feel that way. "Yeah, I know what you mean. So, how was it?"

"We had a great time. Lots of friends and fun. Christmas Day was long, you know, opening gifts pretty much all day long. Too much food. Yoby's on a sugar and Christmas present high, I think." She laughed again. "He needs a long nap and _I_ need to hit the gym, or something."

He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure you don't. Never seen you looking anything but gorgeous."

"Well, thank you for that. How was your holiday?"

Blue was jerking on the leash, so he started walking. "Good. We went to Virginia and it was kind of like yours, only we didn't open gifts all day long."

"Yoby loved the football, by the way. He's been throwing it with Jed pretty much nonstop."

He frowned. "Jed?"

"My _friend_ , Jed." He could practically hear her roll her eyes. "You know who he is. The author. Splits time in Nashville and out here." He did remember her talking about him.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. Well, I'm glad Yobes liked it." He cleared his throat. "So when do you get back?"

"Tomorrow afternoon." She paused. "I was hoping maybe you'd be able to get away for a bit the day after." She had a smoky tone to her voice. "So we could have our own little celebration."

He smiled and breathed in. "I like that idea. I should be able to get away, so long as no one knows you're back."

"I'll message you then. When I'm back."

"Sounds like a plan to me." He paused. "Connie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

She laughed softly. "I love you too. And I can't wait to see you. It's been entirely too long."

* * *

"You sure you don't want to go to the movies with us?" Patty asked. She and the girls were ready to head out.

He shook his head with a wry smile on his face. "To see a chick flick? I don't think so."

"It's not a chick flick, Dad," Addie said with a grin. "It's about a woman who pulled herself up from nothing and became a millionaire."

He grinned. "I get it, Addie. But no, I'd rather not. I'll probably just go for a run instead. But y'all have fun." Patty gave him a look and, for a moment, he wondered if she somehow knew Connie was back in town. Even though knowing she'd come back the day before, he'd focused on not giving anything away, even though he was itching to see her. He walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a mug of coffee. "I'll be good. And you can tell me all about it when you're back." After a chorus of goodbyes, they were out the door and he let himself relax.

He reached for his phone and texted Connie. _I'm leaving here in ten minutes. See you soon._ He added a heart emoji and then sent it. Then he went upstairs to change.

* * *

He waited at her front door, drawing his shoulders up against the chilly breeze. She opened the door and he smiled. She was dressed in a sweatshirt that looked unbelievably soft and snuggle worthy, although he had no intention of just snuggling, and jeans, with her hair settled around her shoulders and her glasses on. "Hey there," she said, with a happy smile, reaching for his hand and pulling him in the house.

She closed the door behind him and he pulled her into his arms, pressing her back against the door, kissing her hungrily. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back just as fervently. He pulled his mouth from hers. "Hey," he said with a smile. "God, I've missed you."

She smiled up at him. "I've missed you too."

He didn't let her go, but looked around behind him. "Yoby here?"

She shook her head. "He's spending the afternoon with Jed."

That took him by surprise. "Jed's here?" He could hear the irritation in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "He _lives_ here, Chip. He came back when we did."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do I need to worry about Jed?" He'd never met this Jed, but then he hadn't met most of Connie's friends.

She frowned. "No. He's a _friend_. And Yoby adores him."

He smirked. "I meant, do I need to worry that Yoby's gonna like him more than me?"

She made a face and swatted his chest. "Stop. Yoby thinks you hung the moon. But he can never have too many male influences in his life, I don't think. It's the one thing I can't give him."

He slid his hand under her sweatshirt, which was every bit as soft as it looked, feeling the skin on her back. He leaned in and kissed her neck, right behind her ear. "So what can I give his mom?" he whispered.

She giggled softly, pressing her hands gently against his chest. "You can take her upstairs and make her scream," she said, her voice low and silky. He pressed a hard kiss against her lips, then took her hand and led her towards the stairs.

* * *

She did scream, although it was more like a loud moan than a true scream. And his was a shout, a feeling of ultimate release. It had left them both with the sheen of perspiration and both a little shaky and completely drained. As he held her tight and she clung to him, her legs wrapped firmly around his back, he could feel her heart beating against his chest. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open just a bit, as she breathed in and out quickly. He smoothed her hair with his hand and she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

 _He pulled her sweatshirt up over her head and tossed it on the floor. She worked on the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with them enough that he finally pushed her hands aside and did it himself. He watched as she shimmied out of her jeans and then took off her underwear, as he finished undressing himself. He pushed her back onto the bed and laid on top of her, kissing her mouth, her nose, her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her neck and shoulders. She rubbed her hands on his back and down over his ass, all the while squirming underneath him._

 _He raised his head and looked down at her. "What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice gravelly._

 _She pressed herself against him, sliding her knees up as she did. "I want you to fuck me," she moaned. She reached between them and grabbed him, trying to push him inside her._

 _He slid back. "Not yet, baby," he said. He nodded at her. "Roll over." She looked confused. "Roll over." Finally she did. "Now slide up and grab the headboard." She had one of those beds with an intricate headboard that looked almost like fence rails. "On your knees."_

 _She did as he told her, making a little anticipatory noise as she did. He knew it excited her for him to take her from behind. He especially loved doing it in the bathroom of her trailer at work, where she could watch herself. He watched now as she twitched her ass at him, her hands gripping the headboard. He came up behind her and slid his hand between her legs. He could feel how wet she was and he groaned. He slid first one finger inside her, then a second, and she let out a guttural moan. He put his other hand around her, flat against her stomach, and slid his fingers in and out, feeling her press back against him, her breathing getting heavy._

 _He rested his chin against her shoulder, whispering into her ear. "You like that, baby?" he said, his voice soft and low._

" _Oh, yes," she moaned. When he slid his fingers out, she whimpered. He tilted her back against him and pushed himself inside her, feeling himself slide into her and hearing her long, low moan as she took him in._

 _He covered her hand on the headboard and leaned into her again. "That feel good, Connie?" he murmured into her ear. He started to move inside her._

" _Oh, God, yes," she cried out. She made a little noise, then said, "Fuck me hard, Chip."_

 _He kissed her on her neck just below her ear. "You sure?"_

 _She nodded. "Mm hm." He picked up the pace, but he didn't want to go too hard, because he knew it would send her over the edge sooner than he wanted. It had been just over three weeks since they'd been together, but he didn't want to rush things. "Oh, please, Chip," she whispered._

" _No, baby, you're gonna have to wait," he murmured. He stopped moving then. "How long can you wait, baby?" he whispered._

 _She tried moving her hips but he held her tight. "Not long," she begged. He kissed her neck and then down along her shoulder, forcing himself to concentrate on that. "Please, Chip," she whispered._

 _He pulled out and then turned her onto her back, hovering over her. He smiled. "Now I'm gonna make you scream," he said and she smiled up at him. He buried himself inside her and she moaned appreciatively. Every time he'd sense her getting close, or himself, he would stop, keeping her on edge. He spent time on her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue until they were hard, loving the sounds of her pleasure. He let his mouth and tongue trail down the length of her body, until she was shaking from the sensations._

" _Please, Chip," she moaned, as she gripped the sheets in her hands, arching her back. That's when he took her one final time, until she finally tensed up and then let go, as she wrapped her legs around him and let out one last, final, gasping moan, before she went limp. He came explosively and collapsed around her, struggling to breathe._

He still loved to watch her, loved to watch how he made her feel, still sometimes in awe of the fact that he was the man making love to Connie Britton. He smiled back at her. "You're so beautiful," he said. He leaned down and kissed her. "And I made you scream," he whispered against her lips.

She laughed. "Yes, you did," she murmured. He felt her clench him inside her, the way she liked. "I love how you feel inside me," she said, echoing the exact thought he was having. He kissed her again, taking his time, tasting her mouth, enjoying the feel of her lips against his and her sweetness. Finally he rolled off of her and onto his back. She turned on her side and put her hand on his chest, smiling at him. "I missed you," she said.

He put his hand over hers. "I missed you too." He looked into her eyes. "Don't leave me again." She laughed, that husky sound he loved, but he also noticed she looked away. He tried not to read anything into it and breathed in deeply.

She looked back at him then. "How long can you stay?" she asked.

* * *

He wasn't going to be able to stay as long as he would have liked. Patty had texted him that she and the girls were going to the mall and would pick up dinner. Connie's friend would be bringing Yoby back before long. He could see the sun going down in the west, earlier now that it was wintertime. He was sitting on a stool at her kitchen island and she was by the stove pouring hot water into mugs for hot chocolate. Then she reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Kahlua. She turned and winked at him and he smiled, then she turned back and poured a healthy amount of the liqueur into the mugs. Then she turned and walked around to where he sat, setting the mugs down and getting up on the stool next to him. She slid one mug towards him, then picked hers up and took a sip, holding it in both hands. She closed her eyes. "Mm, I love a nice spiked hot chocolate on a cold winter day," she said.

He smiled back. "It is good."

She looked at him and smiled. "I'm so glad you could come over. I really have missed you."

He leaned in and kissed her, tasting the chocolate on her lips. "I missed you too."

She sat back. "You know, I spent a lot of time listening to the music you gave me. All of it. And I was wondering, what's your plan?"

"My plan?"

"You know. Are you gonna put out an album? Sell the songs to someone else? Just keep doing what you're doing?"

He'd actually been thinking a lot about what he could do. "I guess I'd put out an album. Or maybe an EP. I'm just not sure exactly how I'd go about doing that. I could do it myself. Or try to get someone else to put it out. But I don't know if I have something that's really, you know, cohesive enough for an album. So maybe an EP."

"You sing those songs, though, right? When you perform at clubs and stuff?"

He nodded. "Yeah. People are starting to recognize them. And I've been trying to play one of my own every time I'm at the Opry, so it's not just Deacon's songs anymore."

She smiled, looking a little impish. "You could put out something called 'Songs for Rayna Jaymes'," she said, laughing.

He grinned. "Maybe I should," he said. "You'd know it was for you, right?" She laughed again. "Speaking of songs, I had an idea of what song we could do at your benefit." Connie was doing her Nashville for Africa benefit in about a month and a half.

She shook her head. "I told you, no more singing." She waved a finger in the air. "I just can't do that again."

"Yes, you can," he said, with a smile. "We'll practice a bunch. You'll be fine."

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm serious, Chip. Both times I've agreed to do it, I was terrible and you know it."

He shook his head. "You were fine. And no one cares if you were off a note or two. They just want to hear you sing."

"It was more than a note or two." She shook her head. "No." She raised a finger. "I did, however, hear that Hayden was at least considering it."

"Well, there you go. If she does it, she'll sing. So should you. And I have the perfect song."

She smirked. "Of course you do. You never listen to me."

"You wanna know what it is?"

She shook her head and chuckled. "No, I do not want to know what it is. Because I'm not singing." She held her hand up. "Not even with you. Not this time."

He decided he wasn't going to listen to her. He knew he could persuade her to change her mind. She always did. "The one I picked is one that Deacon and Rayna _should_ have done."

"And which one is that?"

"The one Rayna and Markus did." She looked confused. "At the Opry."

She made a face. "I must have put that out of my head. I'm not sure I remember it exactly."

He glanced at the clock and knew he needed to leave. He stood up, then leaned in for a kiss. "Check it out," he said. "It's the perfect song. You'll understand when you listen to it." He kissed her again. "And now I've gotta go, before I turn into a pumpkin."

She smiled, then got up with him, taking his hand as they headed for the door. He pulled on his jacket and reached for the keys in his pocket. She put her hands on his arms and rose up on her toes to kiss him. "I can't have you turning into a pumpkin," she said, with a giggle. Then her face turned serious and she kissed him again, lingering a bit, as he put his arms around her. "I love you," she said.

He rubbed her cheek and brushed her lips with another kiss. "I love _you_ ," he said. He opened the door and walked out. She stood at the door and watched him until he pulled out into the street.

* * *

He was halfway home when she called. "Hey there," he said, smiling as he answered.

"Okay, I found it," she said, without preamble. "Chip, you are crazy."

He laughed. "So I've been told. So was I right? It's perfect."

"Well, yes, I suppose it is. At least it's not some angsty ballad. But I'm still not singing."

He laughed again. "Yes, you are. You know you'll give in."

"You underestimate me, Chip."

"I think you forget I have very powerful persuasive powers."

"You do have powers, I'll give you that. Maybe not that persuasive though." She paused. "So tell me something. Are you _trying_ to poke the bear?"

"Maybe."

"You should be careful."

He sighed. "It's a song from the show. Like I said, it's a song Deacon and Rayna should have done. That's how I'd introduce it. The fact of the matter is, Connie, no matter what we do, the songs we've done together on the show are all about two people being in love. This one, at least, is one you originally sang with someone else."

"I suppose."

He breathed in. "Does that mean you'll do it?"

She chuckled softly. "It means I'll think about it." She took a beat. "I miss you already."

"I miss you too." When he disconnected, he thought about what she'd said. But the reality was, any fame he had was tied to the show. People called him Deacon when they saw him around town at least as much as they called him Chip, maybe more. Deacon and Rayna were a couple the fans rooted for, yearned for. He had a contingent of fans who were invested in Deacon and Rayna. It really made no sense to ignore that.

As he pulled into the driveway and around to the garage, he decided he'd just live with whatever happened in the aftermath. Chances were good, though, that Patty wouldn't say a word.

As he got out of the car, he noticed Patty and the girls weren't back yet. He jogged up the steps to the kitchen, calling out for Blue. Then he headed for the back door, letting the dog out and standing at the rail watching him race around the back yard.

* * *

He slid into the pew where Connie was sitting, waiting for the production crew to set up. They were filming at the old brick supply warehouse they used to film interior scenes for the Beverly. He'd been there all week, since there were a number of set up scenes happening. That day, however, it would be a show scene, so there would be lots of extras on set. Rayna would be coming to the Beverly in this scene, along with Bucky, to check out a new artist. It was their first scene to film together for the episode.

She looked up when he sat next to her. "Hey," she said.

He smiled back. "Hey. You ready?"

She nodded. "I think so." She looked towards the stage. He thought she seemed subdued.

"You okay?"

She looked back at him and smiled, but he noticed the smile didn't light up her eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am."

He frowned. "You kind of seem quiet."

She took a deep breath and leveled her gaze at him. "I can't really talk freely. Here."

"So there _is_ something wrong."

She shook her head. "Not _wrong_." She waved her hand. "And not with us. Just…you know, same thing, different day." She stood up then. "We can talk about it later."

He watched her walk off and wondered what had made her feel so disconcerted.

* * *

When they got back to the set after filming, she waited for him, falling in beside him as they walked towards the trailer farm. "Can you come talk?" she asked, her voice low.

He looked at her. "Sure."

"Okay. Give me five, then come by." She hurried away from him towards her trailer.

He watched her until she disappeared around the corner, then headed for his own trailer.

He actually let ten minutes go by before he headed up the steps to her trailer door and knocked. She opened it almost as soon as he knocked. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming," she said, as she stepped back to let him in. When she closed the door behind him, he gave her a kiss.

"Why wouldn't I come?" he asked, frowning. "I just gave it a couple extra minutes." He sat, but she didn't, walking in circles. "So what's up?"

She stopped and looked at him, frustration on her face. "I didn't think about the show the whole time we were off. I just went home and enjoyed the holidays and my friends and Yoby and just did silly, fun things. Kind of shook off the shit, I guess. And then when I came back here, I told myself things would be better. Rayna and Deacon were married. Finally. They'd have some good married scenes and we'd see them working together as a team, without so much drama. But I was wrong."

He was a little confused. "But we _do_ have scenes together, Connie," he said. "They're talking about all those mundane things, the stuff Deacon always wanted."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Mundane isn't interesting on TV, Chip. They aren't really solving problems together. They don't seem particularly passionate. I mean, come on. They're newlyweds."

He couldn't help but smile. "Connie, they're newlyweds who've loved each other for twenty-five _years_. They've had this complicated relationship and now they're finally married."

She shook her head. "You're not understanding me. These are two very passionate people. I mean, you could see it every time they were on screen together. And, I guess, _we_ still feel it, but we aren't getting anything to play onscreen." She sighed almost angrily. "Too much teenage drama, this bickering between Deacon and Frankie, now drama with this Vita person. I mean, I know I want Rayna to be more involved in her business, but quite honestly this feels shoehorned in. And that doesn't even touch on the storylines that don't involve us. Do you even read the rest of the script?"

Quite honestly, he didn't, most of the time. It was enough to understand his own story and learn his lines and the context. He shrugged. "Sometimes."

She shook her head. "Do you even pay attention to what's going on around us?"

"I don't know what you mean, Connie," he said, frowning. He stood up then.

She threw her hands up in the air and rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't," she said, sounding more exasperated than angry. "You live in this fantasy world, I think, and you just accept whatever gets thrown at you because, I don't know, it's your first big role and it's a long running series and you just don't fight hard enough."

He raised his eyebrows, put his hands on his forehead and threw them out in front of him in anger. "Seriously? You're gonna tell me I live in a _fantasy_ world? Like I don't know that these storylines are over the top and sort of crazy…."

"Sort of?"

"Okay, very crazy. I get that, Connie. And I know you have this highbrow sensibility about everything and you're looking at this being not that."

She glared at him then and he could feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. "It doesn't mean I have a 'highbrow sensibility'" – she made air quotes – "because I want the work to be good and because I don't want to be part of a soap opera. That's so ridiculous!"

"Then what are we actually talking about? What is it that you want?"

"I want to go back to where we started. _How_ we started. The story we were really trying to tell, about strong women and the realities of the music business."

"I think we still do that."

She waved him off. "No, we don't. And they're heading down a path where they're going to try to damage Rayna and Deacon's relationship, just when they put them together. I just don't know how much more of this I can put up with."

"You don't know that they're gonna do that," he said, trying to control his emotions.

"I'm just frustrated, Chip. This stuff matters to me. Plus I don't feel like I'm stretching myself anymore. Rayna doesn't even _perform_ much anymore. I feel like I need new outlets."

He breathed in deeply. He didn't want to fight with her and he didn't like the direction this line of talk was going. It wasn't the first time she'd talked about her frustrations and he knew they were real. He could feel her itch, could sense her tension and her feelings of being pulled in multiple directions. She was the ultimate professional and she would never do anything less than her best. She would never truly express her frustration and feelings of ambivalence with outsiders. He knew she trusted him and that's why she could confide in him.

He pulled her into his arms, one hand on the back on her neck. "I know, baby. I get it. I wish I could change it."

He felt her sigh against his shoulder. "It's so hard. And I'm sorry to dump it all on you." She pulled back to look at him, her eyes sad. "What would I do without you?"

He gave her a little smile. "Hope you never have to find out," he said. He took a deep breath and then let it out. "Look, all we can do is our best with what we get. Right?"

She nodded and then a smile slowly crossed her face. "Truly you are the only reason I'm still here," she said. She lifted her hands, placing them on his face, and pulled him in for a kiss. "I really do love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you too." He stepped out of the embrace. "Now, you know I would love to stay here with you, but I know you need to get home to Yoby."

She nodded. "I do." She looked at him with longing in her eyes and touched his cheek with her hand. "All of this has been worth it," she said.

He ran his hand over her hair and then gave her one last kiss. "I'll see you on Monday." Then, reluctantly, he let himself out of her trailer and headed for his car.


	11. Chapter 11

He walked up to where she was sitting on Rayna's kitchen set. She was looking down at her phone, propping herself on the counter with one arm. As he approached, she looked up and smiled. "Well, hey there," she said. "You ready for our one scene?" She made a face and rolled her eyes.

He leaned against the counter and smirked. "I have to agree with you there." He grinned. "I mean, we _are_ newlyweds, right?"

She shook her head with a wry smile. "Not so you'd notice." She glanced furtively over her shoulder, then back up at him. "You free after this?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"Can we meet?"

He smiled. "Yep."

* * *

The scene seemed to take forever to film. It wasn't particularly complicated. The one upside was that he got to kiss her, so he got to kiss her five times, on the lips. He smiled to himself as he headed across the lot to her trailer. One thing he knew for sure was that he'd get to kiss her again and it wouldn't be one of those lip smackers either.

He jogged up the steps to her door and knocked. She opened the door and stepped back to let him in. He pushed the door shut behind him and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her the way he'd been wanting to all afternoon. She seemed to relax in his arms, winding her arms around his neck and arching into him, drawing out the kiss. Then she slid her hands down and, pulling her lips from his, pushed herself away. He frowned a little, not sure what was on her mind.

She skirted around him, pulling at the hem of her sweater. She turned to face him with an irritated look on her face. "I'm not happy," she said.

He breathed in slowly, his hands together, his fingers touching his lips. "What's going on?" he asked.

She put her hands on her waist. "How can we only have one scene? And only three scenes last week?" She stomped her foot and made a whiny face. "And why are we wasting time on Riff Raff and why did we introduce some potential new artist for Rayna only to have that just vanish after a couple episodes? What in the _hell_ are they doing?"

He walked over to her and tried to hug her. "Baby," he started, but she pushed him away.

She held up her index finger. "Don't patronize me, Chip, or try to kiss it away." She shook her head, taking a few steps back. "I can't _do_ this anymore." He took a deep breath and walked towards her, putting his hands on her arms. She lifted her hands up, turning her head away. "Don't," she said, her voice steely, trying to pull away.

He held tight and eventually she looked at him, a frown on her face. "Connie," he said, raising his eyebrows and trying to talk in soothing tones. "I get it. I'm not trying to patronize you. I just don't want you making hasty decisions."

She scowled. "I'm not making _any_ decisions. Yet. But I _am_ thinking about my options." She put her hands on his chest and gently tried to push back. He let his hands drop from her arms. She shook her head. "I think we'll get cancelled. Ratings are down. Viewers aren't happy, about things _other_ than just Deacon and Rayna. I read this stuff, Chip. I listen to what's said. Hayden's storylines have been atrocious and she's basically shutting down. And what is _Rayna_ doing?" She rolled her eyes. "Talking to her husband about some drifter with a nice voice who's a thief and who knows what else? Meeting with detectives about someone she hardly knows and getting all worked up about it. I mean, how ridiculous is that?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "And even Deacon's turned into someone else."

He frowned. "How do you figure that?"

"Think about it. When we started, Deacon was this brooding, kind of intriguing guy. He had a history, a dark history, but he was strong and solid. A man of few words, but when he spoke, there was wisdom there. And now, he still has a dark past, but he seems…different somehow. He's not writing songs. He and Rayna aren't even performing together. At all. He's running a bar, of all things. Being a business person. And they're talking about boring shit in Rayna's kitchen." She threw her arms out. "How can you even stand it?"

He breathed in, a little smile playing around his lips that he tried to hide, because he knew it would infuriate her. "I can stand it because of you," he said. "And because this is the best damn job I've ever had, even if there _wasn't_ you. I'm paid to play the part the way it's written. I'm not paid to write it or to necessarily have an opinion on how it's written. I have to say the words and make the people who watch believe it, make them believe that's what Deacon thinks or what he feels." He held his hands up, palms out. "I hear you and I understand that it's different for you. But you also have a lot more weight in this world. You're well respected and you have credibility. You can be choosy and people know that."

She shook her head. "That's ridiculous, Chip. I don't have any more credibility than you do." She walked up to him and took his hands in hers. "I care about the quality and I know you do too. I care about our characters, because we created them and we're both invested in them. We want certain things for them and I don't feel like we've completely gotten that. I want Rayna and Deacon to have a _real_ marriage, with the ups and downs that ought to reflect who they are. They're complicated people, separately and together, but, I swear, it's like they're trying to make them Rayna and Teddy."

He did smile then. "Are you comparing Deacon to Teddy? Really?"

She gave him a tiny smile. "A little bit, yeah." She sighed. "I'm just saying that they're giving them the same boring marriage they gave Rayna and Teddy. I can't even see the passion they have for each other in the writing."

"So what are you gonna do? Say something?"

She rolled her eyes again. "It won't get me anywhere." She paused, looking at him carefully. "I really wouldn't be surprised if they cancelled us this year. And I know that's not what you want, but it's kind of what I want."

That was not at all what he wanted to hear. She was right about that. It made him feel a little panicked inside. Not only would he lose the best job he'd ever had, but, even more importantly, he'd lose her. It didn't fit his plan. "Really?" he managed to ask. She nodded. To her credit, she didn't look happy about it. "But where would that leave _us_?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I know you have our lives all worked out, but I really don't know if I can keep doing this show and feel good about it. I don't want to hurt you or anyone else on the show, but I'm feeling kind of trapped, if you want to know the truth."

Now he really was panicking. This was like his worst nightmare. "So what, you would just walk away? From all of it? And not…."

She shook her head. "The hardest part of all of this would be what happens to us. You have to know that." She squeezed his hands. "I _love_ you, Chip. I don't _want_ to leave you. I don't want to _lose_ you. That's not at all what I want." He saw tears in her eyes then. "But I'm suffocating," she whispered. "Creatively, I'm dying."

He pulled his hands from hers. She looked hurt. He then wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I wish I could fix it, baby, I really do," he whispered. He held his breath until she slid her arms around him and held him tight.

* * *

She didn't say anything else about wanting to leave or the show getting cancelled during the remainder of the episode shoot, despite the fact that they didn't even work together again. But then he got the script for the next episode and he felt a little more hopeful, because there was actually a really nice scene in the music room, taking Deacon and Rayna back to their roots a bit. They were still talking about the foster care thing, though, and he wasn't really sure how she'd react to that. But then there was the whole business with Maddie going off and singing at some dive club and Deacon getting angry and he was pretty sure she wasn't going to like that angle. And if he was honest, she wasn't really wrong. There were still storylines that were headscratchers and seemed to go nowhere. He wasn't sure even where the Maddie thing was going, but he didn't have a really good feeling about it, and he truthfully didn't like how things looked for Deacon in all of it. So when his phone buzzed and he saw it was her, he hesitated just a second before answering.

"I know why you're calling," he said, when he lifted the phone to his ear, and then he just listened. It was all he could do.

* * *

Her arms were crossed and she was pacing. The trailer wasn't that large, so she was almost making him dizzy with her back and forth. They were two days into episode filming and she had been uncharacteristically quiet. It was obvious now where the storyline was going with Maddie and he himself had not been enthusiastic. A lot seemed to focus on Deacon's quick temper and he found he agreed with Connie, that instead of Deacon's normal slow burn, he was too quick to react.

She stopped and stared at him. "So what are _you_ thinking?" she asked.

"About?"

She made a face. "About all of it. About Deacon acting out. About this emancipation business. About Deacon and Rayna fighting."

He gave her a little smile, which made her roll her eyes. "I actually like them fighting. It's their love language, baby."

She shook her head and frowned. "I don't think fighting is a love language."

He laughed. "No, it's probably not, but it is theirs. You've said it before – we both have, really. Deacon and Rayna are two very passionate people. They fight and it's part of how they talk to each other. But in the end, they're always a team. They can fight like hell and still make love all night long, because it doesn't tear the fabric of who they are." He stood up and walked over to her, taking her in his arms. "Think about it. This is real stuff here." She gave him a side eye. "Okay, maybe not the actual story part, but arguing as part of solving problems. Working through differences, figuring things out."

She ran her hands up his back. "Is that how it is, you know, with _your_ kids?"

He smiled at her. "I've actually never had one try my patience like Maddie does Deacon and Rayna. I mean, there's been little things. Staying out past curfew, getting in trouble at school, bad grades here and there. And two people not always seeing eye to eye on it." He breathed in. It felt too close to the surface to be talking about himself and Patty. It was the place they never really went, so he redirected the subject. "I like the parallel to Rayna's story though. Maddie's sixteen and asserting her independence."

She shrugged and then leaned her head against his chest. "I guess you're right about that little piece."

He chuckled. "I'm glad I'm right about something, anyway."

She swatted his chest and smirked. "Stop." She stepped out of his embrace. "And you're right about the fighting part too." She waved her hands in the air and looked up towards the ceiling. Then she pointed her finger at him. "But I _am_ going to say this just came out of nowhere. I mean, we don't know why Cash is even doing this, do we? There's been no set up, unless Frankie's fed her some shit we don't know about. Which makes it even more outlandish, you know? Why is she suddenly so anti Maddie's parents?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But surely she can't make a case to be emancipated just because her parents are mean to her." He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

She sighed, then smiled a little. "At least they're not talking about foster care and the vanishing singer. I mean, foster care is an admirable cause and I totally support that as me, but it just feels a little heavy handed and like it's coming out of left field for Rayna." She paused and looked thoughtful. "The more I think about it, I like the conflict part. And it _is_ something Rayna and Deacon can face together and figure out as a couple. It's like their first real parenting drama to handle together." She walked back over to him and put her arms around him. He wrapped her up and hugged her close. " _That_ part feels real." She turned her face up to him and smiled and he leaned down and kissed her the way he'd wanted to all day long.

* * *

He'd gotten them studio space to rehearse for the benefit, but then she had called him as he was driving over.

" _I don't want to do it at the studio," she said._

" _But why?" He didn't understand what the problem was and wondered if it was her way of trying to back out._

" _Well, you know," – she hesitated a second – "I mean, there's people there."_

 _He shook his head. "What? Connie, we'd be in the room by ourselves. It's not like a recording session or anything. Just us. Practicing our song." He could hear her sigh on the other end._

" _Can you just come over here?"_

" _Where's here?"_

" _My house. Please, Chip? I'd just feel more comfortable, I think."_

 _She was nothing if not unpredictable. He laughed a little. "Sure, yeah, if that's better for you and you'll actually_ _do_ _this, then yeah, I'll come over there."_

" _Great," she said happily. "I'll see you soon."_

So that was how he'd ended up getting off the highway, doubling back, and calling the studio to cancel the time. He smiled to himself as he drove down the road towards her neighborhood, thinking there might have been one more reason why she wanted him to come rehearse at her house.

* * *

He chuckled as he lay in her bed, his arm around her. He kissed her forehead as she snuggled in a little closer, letting her foot glide up and down his leg, and her fingers lightly brushing his chest. "I think this is why you wanted to rehearse at your house," he said.

She laughed and looked up at him, a fully satisfied smile on her face. "Can I help it if sometimes I just want to make love in a nice, cozy, soft, warm bed? With the sexiest man on the planet?" She laughed again. "And we _did_ practice, my love. A lot. I made you work for this." She grinned up at him.

He kissed her, then chuckled again. "I think it was _me_ making _you_ work for this," he said. "You were ready to stop after one time through, my dear, if you remember correctly."

She shrugged and wrinkled her nose in that way that always sent him over the edge. Then she smiled at him. "Maybe. But you have to admit, this was an appropriate reward for both of us." She ran a finger down his cheek.

He breathed in, tightening his arm around her. "There is absolutely nowhere else I'd rather be," he said, then leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

It had been a cold winter in Nashville, with more snow than normal. The snow had mostly been light and not problematic for the city, but it had certainly seemed a little out of season for show timing. However, they had often played fast and loose with timing and the decision was to just ignore it. It had snowed during filming of a scene between Connie and Lennon outside of the house that was used as Cash's house, the night before. Connie had commented on how quiet it seemed as the snow was falling. Snow was still on the ground and occasional spits of flurries were going on as they made their way to the house in Belle Meade that doubled as Rayna's house. They were filming a couple scenes there with the editor of _Southern Living_ magazine. _Another random what the hell kind of thing,_ Connie had said. He was starting to worry that her irritation and annoyance was growing.

He was standing at one of the windows at the front of the house, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see her walking towards him, fresh from wardrobe and makeup. She smiled. "Is it still snowing?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. Still out there though." She walked up to stand beside him and threaded her arm through his. He looked down at her, as she looked out at the winter wonderland in front of them.

"It's so pretty." She looked up at him. "Yoby loves it," she said and laughed. "He keeps wanting to build a snowman, even though there's really not quite enough for that."

He grinned. "My kids were like that the first winter they were here. They missed out on all that kind of thing in California and you'd have thought they were little kids, considering how excited they got."

"I bet." She grinned, then pointed outside. "Let's take a picture outside."

"Sure." They walked out to the foyer and out the front door. It was crisp and cold, the snow crunching under their feet. He stopped and she did as well and he pulled out his phone. "How about a selfie?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Sure." He held it up above them and took a few quick shots. Then he showed her what he got. She pointed at one with her mouth open, one he particularly liked, since it showed her fun side. "That's a good one," she said, then looked up at him. "How do you do these? I'm so awful at selfies."

He laughed. "I had to learn." He put his arm around her and held the phone up. "First of all, hold the phone above you and look up. I learned it makes you look better. No double chin or anything. Then just be natural." He stepped away and put his phone in his pocket.

"I'll have to try that," she said. She wrinkled her nose. "You're so good at this kind of thing."

He just laughed. It sure didn't hurt that she was his selfie partner.

* * *

They had a fun day filming at the Rayna Jaymes house. It wasn't something they did often, because of the re-creation on set, but it always leant a sort of authenticity to the filming. It was true no matter where they filmed in Nashville, but it seemed to be particularly true in this place. They even got an opportunity to do a little snooping around, when the crew was getting things set up for filming, and took advantage of a dark little hallway off the library to sneak a few kisses, before they were interrupted by a call to the set.

All in all, a very good day.

* * *

As he drove towards the Ryman, the night of the benefit, he thought back to his conversation with Patty the night before. It had been Valentine's Day and she had made a reservation for them at Gray's on Main. He understood that he had to do this for her in order for her to turn a blind eye on the rest of their relationship. They had never actually discussed it in quite those terms, but she had long since made it clear that she expected certain behavior and time from him, and then she left the rest mostly alone.

 _Conversation had been limited and mostly about the kids. She brought him up to speed on some of the work she was doing to book him, as well as what she knew about any end of season tour. "I'm having some conversation with the CMA Fest bookers about options," she said._

 _He nodded. "Anything they want, works for me," he said._

" _It's still a little early, but I think you could get a spot on one of the outdoor stages."_

" _That would be awesome," he said, and it would. It was good exposure, for him as well as the show, and it gave him a platform to do some of his own songs. He was building a solid portfolio and still weighing options on how to get it out to the public._

 _She looked down at her plate, pushing the food around her plate a bit. "I, uh, I'm not coming tomorrow night," she said, then looked up at him, her face revealing nothing._

 _He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, trying not to let the relief show on his face. She'd been waffling on it and he'd been silently hoping she would stay away. "Okay," he said._

" _It's a school night for Addie and Chase, so I think it's best."_

 _He just nodded, but inside he felt infinitely better._

So he was on his own and he'd stopped on the way at a florist. He bought a single rose and asked the person who waited on him to trim it and remove the thorns from the stem. Then the flower was wrapped in a small amount of tissue for him. When he arrived at the Ryman, he slid the flower in his pocket and covered it up with his jacket. He headed inside and towards the dressing rooms, looking for Connie.

He was so focused on where he was going, he didn't see Sam and Chaley until they were right in front of him. "Hey, man, how's it going?" Sam said, a big smile on his face.

He stopped and re-focused. "Good, good." He smiled at Chaley. "Glad you're here, Chaley," he said.

She reached in for a hug. "Hey there, Chip Chop," she said, using her nickname for him. "Missed you, buddy." He had made sure to hug her on the side without the rose, but she obviously could smell it. She pulled back and looked at him with interest. "You sure smell good," she said, with a teasing smile. "New cologne?"

He laughed a little self-consciously. "Yeah, that's it," he said, as he pulled back and looked down the hallway. Then he looked back at them. "Look, I gotta go make sure Connie's not gonna bail on me." He started to head in that direction. "I talked her into singing and I gotta make sure she doesn't wimp out." He smiled, waved, and hurried off.

He found her in the 'Women of Country' dressing room, in her jeans and a sweater. He knocked on the partially open door and she turned, then smiled when she saw him. "Hey," she said. "Come on in."

He walked in and closed the door behind him. "You're not dressed yet?"

She shook her head. "Just got my makeup done and Erica will be in in about twenty minutes to help me with the dress." She looked around, even though there was no one else in the room, and then put her fingers on his cheeks, leaning in for a quick kiss. When she pulled back, she was glowing, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm so excited for this," she said. Then she gave him a side eye. "And I won't back out on you. I promise." She held up her hand as if she were swearing on it.

He smiled. "Good to know." He reached in his jacket then and pulled out the rose, holding it out to her. "I wish I could have given you this yesterday," he said. "Or maybe two dozen of 'em, but this will have to do." He breathed in as she gently took the rose. "I love you, baby."

She gently bit down on her lip and held the flower to her nose. Then she smiled at him. "I love you too. And I love this." She smelled the rose again and he was struck by the fact that she looked almost girlish as she did. She put her hand on his arm. "This is perfect." She walked over and put it in her purse, the red flower poking out. Then she walked back over and took his hand. "I actually can't wait to do our song." There was a knock on the door then.

He looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Me too," he said. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you out there." Then she let go of his hand and he went to the door, opening it to the stylist. He smiled at her. "She's all yours," he said and walked out the door, with just a single backward glance at the most amazing woman he'd ever known.

* * *

He was proud of her out on the stage. She looked amazing, in a dress that hugged her body and showed off her amazingly long legs. She sounded fantastic and she didn't seem nearly as nervous as she'd been when they'd done this before. They'd staged a little banter, before launching into the song, and then she performed it like a trouper. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, in the middle of the song, he pulled her into his arms and they danced onstage. It wasn't long, but her body against his, her head on his shoulder and her arms around him, holding her tight for those few seconds, felt amazing.

He stayed until the very end, after the pictures, the bows, the mingling offstage. He was with her when the children's choir headed out to their bus and then he walked back to her dressing room with her, his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist. When they reached the door, she looked at him. "Can you stay for a little bit?" she asked. "I still feel so wired."

He smiled. "Of course." He followed her into the room and then closed the door. She walked across the room, lifting her feet one by one to pull off her shoes, tossing them on the floor. She went to the counter and picked up two bottles of water, holding one out to him. Then she sat on the chaise lounge.

"Come sit," she said, patting the space beside her. He walked over and sat next to her. She leaned in, with a smile, and kissed him. "Thank you for being here, for being there for me onstage, and for thinking of me." She glanced over at the rose, then sat back against the cushions. "I am beat," she said with a laugh.

He leaned back as well. "You did a great job. You should be proud."

She smiled. "I am. I'm so happy I could do that, you know? And have so many people want to be here to help out." She took a long swallow of water, then stretched out her legs in front of her. "I really need to get out of here, but it's so nice to just sit for a minute." She pushed her hair back from her face and looked at him. "I appreciate your support so much. You're just always there, no matter what."

He smiled at her. "I will always help you out, no matter what you need. You know that."

She nodded. "I do know that." She took another swallow from her bottle, then stood up. "What I need right now, though, is for you to unzip my dress." He raised an eyebrow and she laughed. "So I can change clothes, silly. I'm _not_ driving home in this."

He set the bottle down on the floor and got up. "I'm at your service, my dear," he said. She turned her back to him and pulled her hair down over one shoulder. He took a deep breath and pinched the top of her dress, slowly pulling the zipper down with his other hand. When he reached the bottom, the dress gapped open slightly so he could see the skin of her back. He couldn't help himself from touching her skin with the back of his fingers. She made a little noise, then pulled the dress down her arms and let it fall to the floor. He breathed in sharply, watching her step out of it in her panties and bra. He watched as she bent down to pick up the dress and then walked over to put it on a hanger. When she turned back to face him, he couldn't hide the fact that he was fully aroused.

"I should get dressed," she said, her voice breathy and soft, but he could tell she was turned on too. He crossed the distance between them, taking her in his arms, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her hungrily. He walked her backward until she was against the counter. Then he let his hands drift up and down her bare back, then swiftly slid his fingers inside the waistband of her panties, pushing them down over her hips. "Chip," she murmured against his mouth.

"Turn around, baby," he whispered. She looked into his eyes and he could see how much she wanted him right then. "Turn around," he said again, and she did. She balanced herself against the counter, as he pushed her panties down to the floor and then unzipped his jeans. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back slightly, so he could enter her.

"Oh, Chip," she murmured, as he pushed firmly inside her. She moved her hips as she took him in and then made little noises as he moved inside her. "I don't think…we have much time," she said, breathing hard. He wanted to take his time, but he knew they would soon need to leave, so he moved more insistently. He could tell by her little moans that she was getting close.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered in her ear. He put his hand on her stomach, then slid it down between her legs, touching her there.

"Oh, God," she moaned, and then he felt her pulsing around him as she tried to be as quiet as she could. Then he pressed his mouth against her shoulder as he let go inside her.

He held her tight until they were both breathing normally and then he pulled back and turned away from her. He zipped himself back up and waited, giving her time to get dressed. He could hear her moving around a bit and when he turned back, she was sitting down, pulling on her boots. When she had finished, she looked up at him. "You okay?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled. "Very okay," she said. She got up and walked over to him, putting her arms around him. "Thank you. For all of it."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "All you have to do is ask," he said. "You know that."

She stepped back and smiled. "I do know that." She turned and reached for her coat and purse. "I need to get home and I know you need to get home." She sighed and smiled happily. "But I'll see you tomorrow." As it happened, they would be back at the Ryman the next night to film.

He smiled back. "Yeah, you will." He walked over to the door and opened it, waiting as she grabbed her dress. They walked together back down the hallway, stopping to let him grab his jacket, and then they headed for the parking lot.

 _A/N: I am not sure whether Patty was at the Ryman the night of the Nashville for Africa show, but I decided she wouldn't be. For storyline reasons. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing. I love hearing what you think!_


	12. Chapter 12

The Ryman shoot was a night shoot, so it would make for a long day. He got out of the truck for the third time, this time remembering the messenger bag, and headed around to the back. He let down the tail gate, pressed the light inside the bed, and then walked around to grab the guitar case. No one called out to him, so he guessed he was good and he headed to the door.

"Cut!"

He stopped and took a deep breath. He waited for them to move camera equipment so he could do the scene inside the Ryman door with Connie. He knew she was waiting inside and he wished he could go wait with her, but they wanted him to wait outside. He raised his shoulders as he felt a chilly breeze blow by. The snow had melted over the weekend but it was still cold out. He was looking forward to getting inside.

He walked back and forth, trying to stay warm. He looked up to the round window at the top of the building. He loved being in this place, almost more than anywhere they filmed. The history of the place, as well as the fact that he'd had the honor many times of performing on the hallowed stage, made it always a thrill. _The Mother Church of Country Music._ He often felt like pinching himself when he considered the opportunities he'd had to be on that stage, both for the show and for himself. It was something he'd never take for granted.

They were finally ready for him to walk inside and he did. Connie was standing at the back of the auditorium and he saw her face light up when she saw him. Sometimes the scenes they did together were the only times they would see each other. Their schedules didn't always coordinate so that they could have time alone, either on set or off. It was the biggest struggle they both had. So when they got to share a scene, it was special.

He walked up to her and kissed her and then promptly forgot his line. He laughed, then winked at her. "You just looked so pretty, I got dazzled," he said out loud. The cameraman laughed and Connie gave him a warning look, but smiled anyway. They started over and got past the kiss, he remembered his line, and then she tripped over hers. He pointed at her. "Your turn," he said, and then walked back outside.

As he waited for his cue, she raised her hands up to her mouth and called out, "Don't screw it up this time!"

Third time was the charm though and they got through the whole scene. He held his breath until they said it was good and they walked off together towards the backstage area. They would need to bring the extras in and prep them, so they had some free time, which he hoped to be able to take advantage of.

* * *

They sat next to each other in the dressing room that was being used for hair and makeup. People wandered in and out, so it wasn't private, but they still had some time to themselves. They had both been refreshed after changing into the clothes they'd wear for the scenes on the stage. He had smiled admiringly at the form-fitting black sequin number she was wearing, with the neckline that displayed a tantalizing view of her cleavage, at least until she slid into a light robe.

She gave him a coy smile as he sat in his chair next to her. "I'm freezing in here with no sleeves."

He grinned. "Oh, I get it. You look fantastic in it though." It would be hot under all the lights on stage and he knew she'd be glad for no sleeves when they started filming.

"Thank you, sir. And you look quite handsome, I must say." He smiled. She took a deep breath and looked down at her lap. She would be singing at some point and he knew she was a little nervous. Even though she'd recorded the song in the studio, which would be played in the scene and was what would be heard when the episode aired, they all sang into the microphone to give the song realism. It particularly made her nervous. It made him remember when they'd done the Fort Campbell shoot. While the studio recording was still used in the episode, she'd sang on stage with him and the Stellas and had done really well. He still felt like she didn't give herself enough credit.

"You're gonna be fine," he said, reaching over and touching her arm with his fingers.

She looked at him with a grateful smile. "I always have stage fright," she said, with a little chuckle. "Even when I'm not singing live."

He grinned. "Maybe next time we can blindfold you so you can't see anyone. I bet that would help."

She laughed. "I don't know about that. I'd still be able to hear them breathe." She took a deep breath and then she gave him a little smile. "Thank you for being supportive, always. I'm not sure what I'd do without you lying to me about how good I am."

He laughed out loud, throwing his head back, then looked back at her. She had a mischievous grin on her face. He pointed his finger at her. "You, my dear, are in trouble now."

She laughed. "Good. I'll have to make sure I collect on that."

Just then, one of the production assistants came to tell them they were ready for the two of them on set.

* * *

They stood together, his arms around her, as they watched Lennon and Maisy on stage. He knew they were both supposed to be looking at the girls with love and pride, but all he could think about was how she felt in his arms. It had been a gift for Deacon and Rayna to reunite and to get to have tender, intimate moments on set with her. It gave them both an excuse to touch and kiss and look at each other with love, moments that were real for them and that they both felt gave their characters' passion for each other greater richness.

When the camera wasn't focused on them, he leaned into her ear. "I need you," he whispered.

She turned her head towards him. "Shh," she whispered back.

"But I do."

She sighed. "We'll talk later," she whispered. Then she held up her hand and snapped her fingers to her thumb like a mouth being shut. She gave him a tiny smile before the camera scanned back to them. After a second, she turned her head to look up at him and he looked down at her, the hint of a smile on his face. Then he leaned his head against hers, settling his chin on her shoulder, and they swayed together just a little. And in that moment, although he knew he was doing it for the camera, he felt like it was Chip and Connie and not Deacon and Rayna. Or maybe the two just blended into one. Whatever it was, he knew this woman was home, for him and for his character.

* * *

Two days later, after he'd filmed two scenes with Maisy Stella, he was heading towards Connie's house. He hurried up the steps to her front door and she opened it before he even had to knock. She smiled at him. "Get in here right now," she commanded, and he did. He closed the door behind him as she pulled him into her arms. She tilted her face up to his and he kissed her, as he held her tight. She put her hand on his face and smiled up at him. "I'm so glad you're here." She gave him a kiss. "So, Yoby will be home from school in about an hour and a half and you can't be here then."

"Really? I don't get to see my little buddy?"

She shook her head. "He's at that age where he might wonder why Mom's friend Chip is here at the house."

He sighed, but then he smiled. "Well, then, let's not waste time, shall we?" He grabbed her hand and headed for the stairs.

* * *

She felt light as a feather, lying on top of him, sliding her legs down on either side of his. She sighed deeply, a satisfied smile on her face, and she rested her head on his chest. Her hair tumbled off his chest on the other side and he raked his fingers through it, then rested his hand on the side of her head. He breathed out and smiled. "Wow," he said.

She raised her head up and looked at him with a cheeky grin. "I agree," she said. He was still inside her and she tightened herself around him for a moment. She brushed his lips with hers. "I love how you feel inside me," she whispered.

He slid his hands down her back, landing on her ass, and pressed her closer. "I love how you feel," he whispered back. She kissed him again, letting her lips linger a second, then was more insistent, until he opened his mouth and kissed her back as fervently as she kissed him. He heard himself moan, deep in his throat. _If we could just stay like this forever…._

She pulled her lips from his, then carefully slid off him onto her side. He had one arm around her and put the other on her arm, letting his fingers gently graze her skin. She reached her hand up and scratched his cheek lightly, staring intently into his eyes. Then she sighed. "I know, at a minimum, it's not going to be too much longer before we're done filming. I feel like I need as much as I can get of you."

He felt himself get emotional at her words and he gently pressed her head to his chest so she wouldn't see the tears threatening around the edges of his eyes. The idea that the show might get cancelled terrified him, for so many reasons, but mostly because he didn't know what would happen to them. It didn't fit his plan and, once he'd told her out loud what his intentions were, he really didn't want something to disrupt them. And so he still prayed every night that the renewal gods would favor them and that they'd get more time.

He looked over at the rose on her bedside table and, instead of making him smile, it made him wonder if their time was running out. He'd thought it was sweet that she'd put the flower in a little vase and set it next to her side of the bed. But he was afraid it might be last thing he'd be able to give her and he wanted there to be so much more. He pressed his lips against the top of her head. "You have all of me already," he whispered. He would have to leave soon and he just wanted to savor these last moments for as long as he could.

She lifted her head and then ran her finger over his chin. "That means everything to me," she whispered. " _You_ mean everything to me." He swallowed over a lump in his throat and then threaded his fingers in her hair, pulling her towards him, kissing her until she moaned. Then he rolled her over and took her one more time.

* * *

They'd had no scenes together in this episode, even though what was happening with their characters was all over the storyline. He'd had to acknowledge to himself that there were storylines that seemed random and ill-conceived, bombshells seemingly for the sake of shock and damage, and no clear path they seemed to be on. But this felt like a nail in the coffin. He remembered Connie saying she thought they were going to try to pull Deacon and Rayna apart, but he hadn't really wanted to believe that. But now it seemed that was exactly what was happening.

He knew she was on set that day, but he hadn't seen her. He had come in early, hoping to touch base with her, but he was feeling suddenly claustrophobic inside the production studio and he walked out into the back parking lot. He looked over towards the trailer farm, but he didn't really want to go to his trailer. He would be filming his only scene that day at Deacon's house later in the afternoon and decided to head that way. He looked up at the sky, squinting at the bright sunlight. It was an early March day in Nashville, one of those days when they were teased with the season to come, and the sun felt good, so he decided to walk.

As he walked, it gave him a chance to think. He was starting to think Connie was right and that they might get cancelled. It felt like the writers were working overtime coming up with the most outrageous storylines they could think of. Maddie's emancipation, Juliette going off the rails, the random characters that had no purpose but to take up space, and now, only eight episodes after they'd let Deacon and Rayna get married, they weren't even living in the same house. But then he'd think about the fact that they'd already scheduled tour dates and surely they wouldn't do that if they were going to cancel the show. They'd also announced new show runners for the next season and he thought that seemed positive. All he could think about though was that if they cancelled the show, he'd lose Connie. He felt an aching pain in his chest at the thought and his eyes watered. He breathed in deeply, trying not to let his thoughts go down a rabbit hole.

When he got to the other building he jogged up the steps and let himself in. He walked past the Highway 65 offices set and then headed to Deacon's living room. He sat down on the couch and then turned to lay down, pulling a pillow under his head. He closed his eyes and tried to think calm thoughts.

* * *

"Chip." He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or he really heard his name. "Chip." He opened his eyes and saw Connie standing over him. He blinked and sat up. She smiled. "What are you doing?"

He shook his head, trying to get the cobwebs out. He smiled sheepishly. "Taking a nap, it seems. I didn't mean to do that." He moved his legs off the couch and sat forward. She sat down next to him. He looked over at her. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She shrugged. "I was looking for you and someone said they thought you had walked down here."

He smiled. "Did _you_ walk down here?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "No," she said, dragging it out, as though he'd just said the dumbest thing ever. "I drove." She patted his leg. "I'm done for the day, so I'm headed home." She gave him a little shy smile. "But I wanted to see you."

He leaned back against the back of the couch, as did she. "I'm glad you did."

She looked over at him. "I hate us not getting to work together this episode."

He nodded, but was quiet for a moment. Then he took a deep breath. "I see your side of things," he said finally. She looked surprised at that. "I would never say this in public, you know that, but it feels like we've gone off the rails."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it, before letting go. "I know you would never say it out loud, Chip. I have to say it's something I actually admire about you. You're a cheerleader and I really believe that almost singlehandedly you've kept people watching." He started to deny that, but she waved her hand in front of him. "No, I'm serious. It's all I can do just to not say anything at all, try to be neutral. And Hayden, well, Hayden's just shut down. So it lands on you and you just have that amazing way of seeing the positive about everything. That's how I know you're serious now. Because you would never say that otherwise."

"I'll only say it to you."

She nodded. "I know. I hope you know that you're safe with me."

"I do. Just like I hope you know the same with me."

"I do too." She sighed and rubbed her hands up and down her legs. "I heard that the next episode is going to be Deacon and Rayna in therapy." He frowned when she said that. "And things will still be heavy between them."

He sat up and rested his elbows on his legs, rubbing his face. "So they really are gonna break them up?" He looked over at her, feeling a little measure of despair at the thought.

She shrugged. "I think they just want things to be tense. I guess it makes sense that Rayna is upset with Deacon for what she thinks is the tipping point for Maddie getting emancipated. I mean, I still think that storyline is contrived and stretches reality, but it's what we're left with. I'm pretty sure she doesn't see her part in it. She's being the mama bear, trying to protect her cub, and she'll fight anyone who gets in the way of that. Even her husband."

He spread his hands out. "I don't understand. I mean, I've tried to kind of go along with everything, assuming there's a method to the madness, I suppose. _Hoping_ there is. But I'm worried now." He steepled his hands over his nose and mouth. "I'm just not ready for it to end."

She was quiet and he let her be, until she was ready. "You know, back when I first got into acting, I was just happy to get jobs. And I was willing to do whatever I needed to, as long as it didn't compromise my values, to do my best. And I did some things that were not very critically successful, but they were fun or they brought me joy or I met some very cool people while doing them. I left a show that was very successful, because they changed some things and I wasn't comfortable with the direction. It wasn't an easy thing to do, truthfully, but I think it was really the first time I stood up for myself and made a decision that was best for _me_. I think I knew then that I had to be true to myself, always, even if it was uncomfortable." She sighed. "I came into this because I knew it would stretch me, in ways I wasn't comfortable with, but knew I had to try." He looked at her and she smiled. "The singing. You know that still is so outside my comfort zone, even though I feel a little more confident about it now." He reached for her hand and held it tightly for a moment before letting go.

"I know it's been hard," he said.

"You know what's made it worthwhile though? Why I have tried to just be zen about all of it?" She pointed at him. "You." He felt his breath catch in his throat and his chest hurt. "I never expected us to happen. It scared me, for a lot of different reasons, but I felt like I couldn't stop it. I didn't _want_ to stop it. I think it's the same way Rayna has always felt about Deacon. Even if there are a million different reasons not to do it, so many obstacles, so many points of navigation, it's just, I guess, impossible not to. It's messy and it's complicated and there's still a chance we don't make it, but I couldn't not do this. With you." He could see her eyes glistening with tears and her jaw trembled just slightly. "I've kept this so close in my heart and I _do_ know, without a doubt, that if this is over, it will devastate me. Creatively I'm dying, but personally I'd be cut to the bone. I don't want you to _ever_ doubt how I feel about you, Chip. _None_ of this, none of what I need professionally, is about you."

He rubbed his face, giving himself a chance to collect himself. Then he turned back to look at her. "But you still want this to be over," he said. It was a statement, more than a question. She didn't respond, but the tears rolling down her face told him it was true. He knew – it made it easier, in a way. It would be out of their hands, out of their control, and they could walk away from it and then figure out how to work through the rest. Or not. The thing was, neither option was what he wanted.

She reached out and patted his leg, then slid off the couch, as he watched her. He looked up at her. "I need to get home. But I want to see you. _Need_ to see you. Spend time with you."

He breathed out and then he stood up. "We'll figure something out," he said.

She stood there for a moment, then gave him a little smile. "Will you walk me out?" she asked. He nodded and then followed her, his fingers tucked into his back pockets. His heart felt heavy and he wondered if hers did too. He trailed her down the steps and out to her car. He opened the door for her. She turned back to look at him before she got in. "I love you, Chip," she whispered.

"I love you too," he whispered back. She got in her car and he shut the door, then stood and watched as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, then out of sight. He took a deep breath, thinking about what she'd said. _I don't want you to ever doubt how I feel about you, Chip._ He felt tears in his eyes and blinked hard, biting down on his lip. He knew she'd meant it to be soothing and reassuring, but he couldn't stop the ominous feeling deep down in his gut.

He breathed out and then headed back to the steps.

* * *

They were laying in her bed, their legs and arms tangled up together. It had turned cold again, and rainy, but it somehow felt like they were all wrapped up in some protective cocoon, the sky heavy and gray outside, their bodies warm inside. He breathed in and then sighed. She looked up at him. "What was that for?" she asked, with a tiny smile.

He smirked. "It just seems so ironic, you know? We're in the middle of filming Deacon and Rayna tearing each other apart, feeling maybe as far apart as they have since right after the car accident storyline, and yet all over Nashville there's all this promo about their wedding."

She chuckled softly. "I guess you're right about that." She reached up and pinched his chin, winking at him. "I hate fighting with you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what would you rather be doing?"

She grinned. "This. Lying in bed, naked with you. Feeling your arms around me, feeling your skin against mine." She ran her hand down his abdomen and gave him a teasing look. "Thinking about making you make love to me again."

He laughed. "Baby, you wouldn't have to _make_ me." Then he moaned as she slid her hand farther down, wrapping it around him.

"So I could interest you in round two?" she asked, her voice quiet and seductive.

He bit his lip. "Oh, absolutely," he choked out. All it took was her touch to get him instantly aroused.

"Well, you do feel" – she squeezed gently – "really ready," she purred. She squeezed again and he groaned, rolling her onto her back and plunging inside her. "Oh, Chip," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He found her earlobe and nibbled at it. "You should know by now what you do to me," he growled into her ear. She laughed softly and then moaned when he ran his tongue behind her ear. He was moving inside her, closing his eyes as he let himself be swept away by how that felt. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him, urging him to go faster, harder, and he did. She moved her arms and grabbed the pillow at her ears, arching her back and making little panting noises as she let him go deeper.

"Oh, Chip," she whispered, and he knew she was close. He slid his hand between them, touching her gently, rewarded as she arched into him, her back rising off the bed, her hands clenching the pillow and her head rolling from side to side as she cried out.

He was right on the edge himself and, when she cried out one last time, he let go, shouting out her name as he emptied himself inside her. He heard her breathe out and then felt her hands wrap around the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair. He looked up at her, her face flushed as she caught her breath. Then she smiled at him, that beautiful smile that told him she was fully and completely satisfied and that he had just made her infinitely happy. He smiled back, feeling exactly the same way.


	13. Chapter 13

The week the wedding episode aired, they started filming on the next to the last episode. Reading through the script had felt depressing. Even though most of his scenes were with her, there was a heaviness and a darkness to them. It left him feeling unsettled, even with the scene at the end of seeming conciliation, and he noticed she seemed unsettled as well.

He had walked over to her trailer after their first read-through. She smiled when she opened the door, but it wasn't the usual joyful smile. "Hey," she said. "Come on in." She stepped aside as he walked in, then closed the door behind him.

He waited while she walked past him. She looked up at him and patted his arm, then went to sit on the bench. He followed and sat down next to her. They sat quietly for a moment. She crossed her legs under her and looked down at her hands clasped together. He breathed in and she looked up and over at him. "It almost feels like we're taking them on, you know?" he said.

She gave him a knowing look, then reached over for his hand, threading her fingers through his. "Yeah, it kind of does." She sighed. "I don't like it. I don't like what _they're_ going through and I don't like that it trickles into _our_ lives. You know?"

He nodded. "I _do_ know." He sat back, not letting go of her hand. "I get why they're at this point. I mean, I don't _like_ why they're there, but considering that's what we got, then I get why they're sort of at cross purposes. Or at least why _she_ feels that way."

She frowned. "Do you really? Because I don't. I mean, I honestly am not sure right now why she let him come home and why she's even getting into the same bed with him." Now it was his turn to frown. "And I don't mean that I'm in agreement with it. What I mean is that if she had this much anger towards him and this much resentment, why is she with him at all? When she talks about their lives being entwined and all that, it really feels like she hates it. Like she's just carrying the weight of it, almost against her will. The way they want it played anyway." She sat back against the bench. "Do you remember the scene she had in the first season? When she had to talk to the campaign people about her relationship with him?" She looked over at him.

He shook his head. "I do not."

She gave him a tiny smile. "Well, she was so protective of it. And he'd surely hurt her in many ways in those days and yet he was in her band and he was arguably her best friend. He definitely knew her better than anyone, including her husband, and now she's acting like she's married to a monster. Like he's exhausting her and she's just tired of it all."

He thought about that. " _He_ definitely doesn't see things that way. I mean, he believes he's disappointed her, many times, and is afraid he always will. But he sure doesn't seem exhausted by waiting for her." He scratched his cheek. "Well, maybe that's not the right way to put it. But he's always waited for her. And it's obvious he always will, should he have to again."

She turned towards him and put her other hand around their joined hands. "Should she feel like this though? I mean, I can't help but think she's not taking into account _her_ part in all this. Yes, he acted impulsively and the end result wasn't good, but she knew he would do anything for her. She was being sued in court by her daughter and all he saw was that his actions, as twisted in the retelling as they were, had hurt her cause. He went there with the right heart, I believe, but she shut him down. And she blames him for losing their daughter. As though she had no part in it."

He leaned towards her. "You can't apply logic to an emotional situation, baby. And she did reach out to him at the end."

"Yeah, but was it because of that inevitability or because she truly wanted them to heal?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I know he'd do anything to make it up to her, but he's probably really hurt by what he thinks he's done and by the idea that she might put a permanent wall up between them."

She smirked. "But you were the one who said fighting was their love language."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but maybe not this kind. This kind of goes deeper."

She let go of his hand and slid over to nestle into his side, her hands resting on his thigh. She sighed. "I know these aren't real people and this is all just ridiculous speculation on my part, but I wonder what might have been different had she made different choices. You know, when she found she was pregnant."

He put his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'd like to think they'd have figured things out. That finding out he was gonna be a dad would have been the thing that made him work harder." He thought about his own experience. "I know when I found out we were gonna have Taylor, that was such a wakeup call. I mean, I was probably about the same age Deacon was, and your life is just so different when there aren't kids. Even if you're in a committed relationship, you have a freedom that isn't there after kids. And I think his love for Rayna, coupled with knowing they would be parents, would have made him realize what was at stake. He _did_ get sober that time, after all."

"True." She sighed. "It just makes me wonder where we're headed. They can't just fix them in one episode. That would be so unrealistic." She turned her head to look up at him. "I'm so tired of them having adversity." He leaned in and kissed her. "We have one more episode and they're so far apart. What if this is the end?"

He'd been thinking about that more and more. Fans were unhappy with the direction of the show. And Connie wasn't the only cast member who was unhappy or, at the very least, puzzled by the show's direction and whiplash inducing storyline changes. There had been too many random characters brought in and escorted out who not only had no real connection to core characters and storylines, but hadn't added anything significant to the storyboard of the show. He kept trying to prop things up, but even he was feeling exhausted by it. He breathed in. "You mean the end of Deacon and Rayna?"

She sat up, facing him. "Well, that, but even more than that. Surely we don't end with them estranged from each other. Not after everything they went through to be together." She gave him a look then that made him wonder if that last sentence was just meant for their characters.

He reached out and pushed her hair back, letting his thumb and fingers gently trace the outline of her ear. "I choose to believe it all works out," he said. "For everyone."

She took a deep breath, looking deeply into his eyes. Then she moved herself so that she was straddling him, her arms around his neck. He put his hands on her waist. She slid her arms forward so that her hands were cupping his face and she bent down and kissed him. As the kiss deepened, he let his hands slide around to her back, pulling her closer. When she finally pulled her lips from his, she looked into his eyes searchingly. "I love you," she said. "I love you like I've never loved anyone before in my life. This is forever, Chip. You, and this love, have spoiled me for anything else, ever." She kissed him again. "This _will_ work out. I promise." He looked up into her eyes and saw her truth.

"I believe that too," he said.

She slid her hands down his chest and pushed back from him enough that she could reach his belt. She gave him a saucy smile. "Now let's get you unzipped, so you can show me just how much you love me."

He grinned as she worked on his belt. "I _do_ like how you think," he said, as he flipped her onto her back, hovering over her. "And I _do_ love you very, very much." She laughed happily, the way he loved to hear, as they undressed each other.

* * *

It was a warm day at the end of March. They both had had an early filming day and were done after lunch. They agreed to meet at the river. He got there first and stood looking out over the water, his hands crossed over his chest. He would be done filming at the end of the week and the wrap party was coming up that weekend. Things felt unsettled for everyone. The season ending episode had a series ending feel to it. Storylines wrapped up neatly, not much to carry it to a season 5, if there was one. He knew the new showrunners were working on a plan, but he had no idea what that would look like. He didn't know if it was his own intuition that told him not to keep his hopes up or Connie's influence.

Just then he heard steps on gravel and he turned to see her walking down the path. She raised her hand and smiled. "Hey," she said, walking up to him. She put her arms around his waist and he put his around her shoulders. "You beat me."

He gave her a kiss and smiled. "You drive like a mama."

She laughed. "Well, I am that." She hugged him tightly, her head pressed against his chest. He took a deep breath and just let himself enjoy holding her close. He took a deep breath and she stepped out of his embrace then. He held out his hand and she slid hers into his, linking her fingers with his. They walked towards the edge of the water. She looked up at him. "I'm gonna miss this place."

He nodded. "Hopefully it's just for the summer." She just nodded, looking back out over the water. "When do you leave?"

"Not right away. Yoby's still got school." She made a face. "He's actually out of school this week for spring break. Pretty terrible timing, actually. We'll go out for weekends, but be here during the week for him. He finishes up mid-May, so we'll head back to LA then." She smiled. "What about you? Do you start rehearsing next week?"

He nodded. "We do. First show is April 14th, so we need enough time to work through our sets and practice the full cast numbers."

"Who's going?"

He thought for a minute. "Me, Clare, JJ, Chris, and Aubrey. It changes up some depending on where we are." He winked at her. "We're in LA on the 16th. It's a weekend."

She smiled. "I wish I could. But you're not going alone, right?"

He breathed in and his smile faded. "No, I'm not." He squeezed her hand. "I'd rather see you though."

She leaned her head against his arm. "I know."

"Are you coming to the wrap party?"

"Yeah. I'm not staying long, but I do want to see everyone." She took a couple steps away, tugging at his hand. "Let's sit." They found a place and sat. She leaned back against him and he put his arms around her and they just sat together quietly for a while. "What are you doing about your music?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"I still can't decide. I'm actually thinking about maybe just putting it out on a streaming vehicle, something like that. I could do an EP or a record, but I'd have to do it myself and that could be more expensive. Booking studio time and musicians and all that. If I just stream it, I could probably do it less expensively."

She turned her head to look at him. "I hope you figure something out. I think it's such an important part of who you are and you really should share it as much as you can." She smiled. "I know _I've_ enjoyed what you've shared with me. I'm sure others would feel the same."

He hugged her close, nestling his face against her neck. "I want to. I don't want it to just sit on a shelf." He sighed. "One of the things that's really meant a lot to me is the chance to write with great writers and create songs I'm proud of."

She nodded. "I know."

He was quiet for a moment. "I _am_ gonna figure it out. Somehow I'll release it."

She put her hands on his arms and squeezed them gently. "Good. I'll be waiting to hear what you decide." She ran her hands up his arms. "I hope I get to see you at the wrap."

"You will." She seemed to tense up a little in his arms.

"No, I mean I want to be able to hug you. I want a picture with you."

He wasn't sure he understood the urgency he heard in her voice. He frowned slightly. "You will, baby. I promise."

"Everyone seems so…anxious. It feels like there's a weird vibe. I mean, what if, you know…."

And then he _did_ know. He understood. "Baby, I _will_ see you again. No matter what happens. I won't lose you. You won't lose me."

She turned towards him, with a look of concern, as she searched his face with her eyes. "I just worry that if, I don't know, you're here and I'm not, that" – he could see the hint of tears in her eyes – "things will be so complicated that we won't be able to, um, navigate the change."

He looked at her intently. "Are you worried about me? Or about you?"

She took a deep breath and breathed out. "I'm not sure." She put her hand on his face. "I'm don't want to be with anyone but you, Chip. That's the easy part. But your situation is more…complicated."

He took a strand of her hair between his fingers and rubbed it. Hearing her say that – _I'm yours_ – filled up his heart. "I'll uncomplicate it, as soon as I can. I promise." He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "I'm _yours_ , Connie. I don't want to be with anyone but you. We will figure it out." He leaned towards her and brushed her lips with a kiss. "But maybe it won't be something we have to worry about."

She still didn't look convinced. "I guess we'll see," she said quietly. Then she turned back and leaned against him. He put his arms back around her. In that moment, he felt like something was going to change, no matter what, but he had no idea just what that was going to be. So he held her tighter against him, not ever wanting to let her go.

* * *

She was there when he got there. He didn't seek her out immediately. He knew better than that. He chatted with Clare and her boyfriend, JJ and his wife, mingled with others. Patty was right at his elbow and it took everything he had in him not to show his irritation. The mood of the party was mostly upbeat, but there was an undertone of sadness, or maybe just resignation. He kept his eye on Connie, watching her as she walked around, talking to people, hugging them. There was a sense of finality to it that pained him.

She had decided to leave Nashville earlier than she'd planned. Yoby was only in kindergarten, so it didn't matter so much for her to take him out early. She was just ready, she'd told him. The season had worn her down. The drama, the craziness, the way it had felt – to her – like it would never end. _It's like a nightmare you can't wake up from. And I'm just exhausted, Chip, physically and emotionally. I feel like I'm in the dark and can't get out. I need the light. I need to be in the sun, away from all this. I need to heal._ He understood. He was getting his time in the sun too, with the tour. He was looking forward to that, to doing something he loved, putting the darkness of the season behind him, hoping for something better with the new regime.

As he watched her, he considered that, in many ways, there were two sides to Connie Britton. The one most people knew was the Connie Britton he watched at the party – strong, sure of herself, talented, respected, admired. She was friendly, funny, smart, and caring. She was an icon to so many, including many of the people there. People were in awe of her and, he had to admit, he was too. But then there was the private Connie, the one only those closest to her saw. The part _he_ saw. But he considered that he got a special, even more private Connie. The Connie who was vulnerable, the Connie who would tell him she wanted to be with only him, who didn't believe she was giving up anything of herself to love him. That was the part he never wanted to take for granted.

 _I can really be myself, you know, with you. I don't have to be that public person with you. I can show you the good and the bad and know that you still respect me and love me, no matter what. You let me be_ _all_ _of myself._ She had said that to him in the midst of all the crazy storytelling, when they couldn't figure out what was truly happening. She had told him then she trusted him, knew he'd listen without judgment, and he had. But he was worried now, worried about what might happen to the show, no longer so sure about everything, although he worked hard not to show that in his public life. _Always know, no matter what happens, that I love you._ She'd said that too and he had tried not to read too much into it, but he couldn't help but feel that little niggle of worry.

He breathed in deeply, trying to calm his emotions, focus on having fun, and maintaining his upbeat attitude. No one else but Connie knew that, in many ways, it was a mask. While he wanted to be an optimist, he was also a realist. He just didn't want to believe it could all be over.

When she finally looked over towards him, he could tell she was ready to go. He needed to get away so he could spend a few precious minutes alone with her. Luckily Clare and her boyfriend were chatting up Patty and he stepped away. He made his way across the room, stopping to speak to people here and there, not staying in any one place long. He finally was standing next to her at the dessert table.

"Hey," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," she said, looking up at him with a little smile. Then she looked back at the table. "I'm trying to decide on one of those macaroons" – she pointed at the coconut cookies dipped in chocolate – "or one of those". She pointed at a plate of guitar shaped cookies, iced in Nashville blue with a white outline and strings. "For Yoby, of course."

He smiled. "Of course."

She finally reached for one of the guitar cookies and wrapped it in a napkin, then put it in her purse. "I think he'd appreciate that one more than a coconut cookie."

He nodded. "Most kids don't love coconut."

She grinned. "That's true." Her smile faded then and she bit down on her lip. "Good luck on the tour. I'll miss you."

"I'll text, when I can. Call if I can."

She nodded. Then she reached out and put her arms around him, hugging him, just as she'd said she wanted to. He had to be careful not to hold her the way he would have liked. "I love you," she whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear. He knew the hug lasted longer than it should have and he knew he'd probably pay for it later, but he didn't care. He didn't know when he'd see her again. She stepped back, her hands clasping his arms. "I couldn't have made it through this season without you."

He swallowed, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. "Me either," he said. He leaned in for a second, whispering in her ear. "I love you too." He straightened up and stepped back.

"Wait!" She reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone. "I need a picture, remember?" she said, with a smile.

He smiled back. "I do remember." He took the phone from her and they each put an arm around each other and he snapped the selfie, then handed the phone back to her. "Have a good summer," he said. "And tell Yoby hey for me."

She smiled up at him. "I will." She raised her hand in a wave and then headed for the door. He stood and watched her until she had left the room, then turned back. Patty was scowling. He took a deep breath and headed over to do damage control. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he walked.

It wasn't until later that night, after they were home, that he looked at the text. _I'll miss you like crazy._ And then there was a heart emoji. He quickly texted back. _Same._ And a heart emoji of his own. Then he sighed, feeling heaviness in his heart and anxiety about the future.

* * *

He was in Washington, DC. Actually he was staying with his mom, since they were so close. He'd arrived early, did some publicity on one of the local radio stations and a local morning TV show with the rest of the cast who were with him. He did always enjoy coming home. He changed into running gear and headed out for the nearby park. It was a perfect day, just warm enough, with a hint of cool underneath the sun, clear blue skies, and no humidity. Great running weather.

He ran about a mile before he slowed down. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and sent a text. _You around?_ He waited but didn't get a response immediately. He frowned slightly, then slipped his phone back in his pocket and started running again. The park was well shaded, with the new foliage and flowering trees, and he could feel the slight chill a little more there. He'd gone about another half mile when he felt the vibration against his ass. He stopped again and pulled his phone out. _Sorry. Yes._ He smiled then and called her number.

"I was making pancakes," she said when she answered.

He smiled. "Really?"

She laughed. "Truthfully? The ones you can put in the freezer and then in the microwave. Yoby has no idea they aren't great." He found a bench and sat. "Where are you today?"

"DC. Well, Alexandria actually."

"I'm sure your mom was happy about that. How many more stops?"

"Three. Then we've got a break before the UK tour."

"That's really exciting, Chip."

He smiled. "I'm looking forward to it." He breathed in. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. We've been having fun though, so it helps."

"I keep hoping we'll hear something. It feels like it's gonna be like waiting on season 3. Down to the wire."

"You might be right." She sounded so matter-of-fact.

"When would you come back?"

"Um, assuming the timing is the same, around the end of June. You know, I wish I could have seen you when you were out here."

He smiled. "That would've been nice. But we'll see each other soon enough." It helped to try to keep up with the idea that they would be renewed, she would come back, and things would go on for them from there. "What have you got planned today?" He needed to talk about something that didn't involve the show and he knew she was tired of talking about it.

"Mm, not much really. I have a meeting with my agent later this morning, to talk about some potential projects."

That always got his attention, because projects took her away. From him. She'd told him, back about midway through season 2, that she needed something to stretch her, something different, something to 'cleanse her palate', was the way she'd put it. "Anything interesting?" he asked, always trying to be supportive, even when it gnawed at him.

"I don't know." She sounded less than certain. "I mean, if I'm gonna do something, I want it to be different from what I've done before, you know?"

"I _do_ know. So what you're seeing is too similar?"

"Kind of. But we'll see." She sounded contemplative, but then her tone changed to something more understanding. "Not a huge project though. Nothing that would keep me away for a long time. But you know, Chip, you have your music and I have different acting projects." She paused. "You know, I've never really understood why you didn't get asked about doing other roles, even just guest star things. You're so amazingly talented."

He smiled to himself, feeling lifted up by her words. "It's really not that it hasn't been a possibility, but you know how much I just want to do music, so I guess that takes up my time."

"Have you given any more thought to what you're gonna do? A record?"

He screwed up his face. "You know, I don't think so. I'm actually thinking about maybe just putting songs out one at a time. I don't have it all worked out yet, but maybe when we're back home I can start thinking about how that would work. Or _if_ it would work."

"That's not the norm, is it?"

"Nah. I mean, some artists put out a single ahead of a record, but that isn't really the same thing." He scratched at his cheek. "I guess I'm not sure I have enough similar stuff to create a cohesive record. Maybe an EP, but I'm not quite feeling that." He smiled again to himself. "I _did_ get asked to do CMA Fest again."

"Seriously? That's fantastic!"

"Yeah. I'll be doing a Q and A type thing and then heading over to one of the free stages to do a set."

"Well, I won't be back in time to see, but I know you'll be awesome."

He knew it was awkward for her to come see him perform, as long as Patty was going to be there, which was most of the time. He wondered if the day really would come where _she_ could be the one standing on the side stage with him. "I wish you could be there, baby," he said.

"Me too." He caught a hint of sadness in her voice. "So, listen, I need to go make sure Yoby's getting dressed and stuff." She paused. "I miss you. And I love you."

"I miss you too, baby. And you know I love you."

"I know you do." He could picture a soft smile on her face then. "So I guess I'll talk to you again when you can. And see you pretty soon."

"Have a good day, baby. And say hey to Yoby for me."

"You too. And I will." Then she disconnected.

He sighed as he lowered the phone from his ear. He wished they'd hear something about the show. He felt like the longer it went on, the less positive that was. He knew it could be a money thing, like before, where they were still trying to get enough money from the city and the state to make it make sense. He knew Connie would be more comfortable with fewer episodes and, while he didn't want to shorten the season, he would be willing to take it, if that meant coming back. But there was nothing he himself could do to impact things, except to do his part to keep the fan base engaged, which was part of what this tour was all about.

He sighed again, then got up from the bench, shoved his phone in his pocket, and finished his run.

* * *

When he woke on the morning of May 12th, he had a sense of foreboding that he couldn't explain and couldn't shake. He had a writing appointment that afternoon that he was looking forward to. To try to shake off the unpleasant feelings, he'd gone for a long run, hoping the fresh air would wipe away whatever was hovering deep in his gut. By the time he got back he felt better, but he still periodically felt a tiny sense of anxiety he couldn't fully get rid of.

* * *

It was late afternoon and he was at his writing appointment. He was working with Timothy James and Kendell Marvel, someone he'd wanted to work with for a long time. He'd brought an idea with him to the session, about the loneliness he'd been feeling without Connie and how he coped. He'd come with a beginning – _sometimes days are dark, sometimes nights are long, sometimes all that you can do is just keep hanging on_ – and now they were nearly finished. The lyrics were done and he was happy with how they'd turned out and they were working on the melody.

He heard an alert signaling he had a text, but he kept working. But then it was obvious his phone was blowing up. He frowned and tried ignoring it, but someone asked if he might need to check it, in case it was some sort of emergency. He got up, picked up his phone, and walked outside. When he looked at the screen, he staggered a little. It was the group text the main cast had and it was filled with the news he'd hoped wouldn't happen – _We're cancelled_.

He leaned back against the porch rail and closed his eyes. He could feel the tears and willed himself to not cry. He felt sick to his stomach. He went and checked his email, seeing nothing official, and frowned. Then he went back to the group text and asked the question – _How do you know?_ Several people called out various social media or entertainment sites. He was shocked they hadn't heard anything from Callie or the new showrunners first. He felt a little like he couldn't catch his breath and his mind was swirling, unable to process it all.

He set his phone to silent and slid it in his pocket, then went back inside. He tried to block it out of his mind by finishing the appointment. He told them it wasn't anything and instead focused on finishing the song. When he finally left and walked out to his car, he could feel the tears on his face.

* * *

Instead of driving home, he drove to the river, to the place he and Connie always went. He walked slowly down the path, all kinds of thoughts and feelings wreaking havoc with his head and his heart. There was the loss of a paycheck – not an insignificant thing – and his first leading role. There was the entrée he'd gotten into the music world, with writing appointments like the one he'd just had and opportunities to perform around town. He wondered about the rest of the cast tour, the part in the UK. And then, of course, and most importantly, there was Connie. It was too soon and she'd stay in LA, he knew. His heart started to pound out of his chest. They were so close and he didn't want to lose her.

When he got to the spot along the river bank, he sat, pulling out his phone finally. The texting had slowed down some. There was sadness and grief and shock and anger. They'd finally heard officially from Callie. His head was pounding. As he scrolled through the texts, he noticed that everyone had chimed in except Connie and Hayden. He pulled up Connie and sent her a private text. _I know you heard. What are you thinking?_ And he waited.

* * *

He had no idea how long he'd been sitting at the river. The sun was setting and the air got just slightly cooler. He looked back at his phone. There was no response from Connie, but he did have a series of texts from Patty, wondering where he was, had he heard, was he okay. He realized he'd never turned the ringer back on and did so then. He sent another text to Connie. _Baby, let me hear from you._ He needed to hear from her. He waited a little longer and then finally got up and headed back to his car.

Driving home he felt numb. He felt like he had a vise around his chest and that he could hardly breathe. He felt like throwing up and then pulled over, opened the car door, and did exactly that. He sat back, closing his eyes. After a few minutes, he took the bottled water that was still in his console, rinsed his mouth out, and spit it out on the pavement. Then he shut the door and drove home.

* * *

It was late, after ten. He was sitting out on the back porch with a glass of bourbon next to him. He still felt numb, but the reality of it all was finally seeping in a bit. People had reached out all evening, once the news was out. He'd done little talking, hadn't even known what to say. At one point, Patty had seemed almost jovial, and in that moment he'd hated her. That's when he'd had to come out to the porch, away from her and the finality of it all. Thankfully, she had left him alone.

He looked down at his phone. He'd finally heard from Connie. _Let's talk tomorrow._ He didn't want to wait, but he knew that pushing it right now wasn't the right answer. The news was that the production company would try to shop the show around to hopefully continue it, but he didn't want to get his own hopes up too much. So he opened up Twitter and composed a tweet, deleting it, then recomposing, until he felt good about what he'd written. _So grateful to so many for the dream that has been #Nashville. Not always easy to be Deacon. But to play him? An absolute joy and an honor._ He read it through twice and then posted it.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Just a reminder, this is a story of fiction and fantasy. It's just a fun imagining of 'what if'._

He couldn't sleep. He laid in bed, his mind going back, over and over, to all the texts. The disbelief, the hurt, even anger. He hadn't spent a lot of time on social media, because it just hurt too much. He certainly appreciated the fans' outrage and support, but he kind of wanted to hibernate for a while. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 2:45. He let out a long sigh and then sat up on the edge of the bed. He put his hands over his face, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. He felt a little stupid for getting teary. He wanted to talk to Connie. _Needed_ to talk to Connie. His heart was aching.

He put his hands on his thighs and breathed in deeply. "You okay?" came Patty's sleepy voice.

"Just can't sleep," he said, getting out of bed and pulling on a t shirt. He picked up his phone, walked around the bed, and out the door. She didn't say another word. He headed down to the kitchen and got a glass out of one of the cabinets. He picked up the bottle of bourbon he'd been drinking the night before and carried both out onto the back porch. The moon was high and bright in the sky, almost a full moon, he noticed.

He sat down and set the glass on the side table. He poured a generous amount of bourbon into the glass, then set the bottle down. He picked up the glass and took a sip. He looked down at his phone, wishing it were earlier. He sent a text anyway, hoping it didn't wake her. _I wish you were here with me right now._ He set the phone down then, looking out at the clear, dark sky. He heard his phone buzz and he frowned. He was surprised when he saw it was her. _I do too. I'm missing you right now._ He quickly texted her back. _Can I call you?_ He waited. _Yes._

She answered within seconds. "Hey," she said, her voice low and hushed.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No. I couldn't sleep. I guess you couldn't either."

"No, I couldn't. Can't." He sighed. "Look, I know you're happy or relieved or whatever about this, but I'm…."

"Chip." She cut in and her voice was firm. He stopped. "It was meant to happen," she went on. "I really do think Dee was burning it down. I think she knew before we did that Callie wanted to make a change and she pulled out all the stops. I don't know why Callie didn't stop it, but she didn't." She sighed. "Yes, I'm relieved. I needed a change and this gives me the chance. But I told you before that it would also break my heart. I don't want to leave you." He could hear her emotion in her voice.

He got that panicky feeling in his chest. "It doesn't have to be for good," he said.

"I know. But how do we even do this? I know you're not ready."

"Say the word, Connie." She was quiet for a long time and he almost wondered if she'd disconnected.

"You need to honor your commitment, Chip," she finally said. "I think you'd always regret it if you didn't. And you might never really forgive me if I forced you to. When you're ready, I'll be here. I _do_ want to see you though."

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "I want to see you too."

"I need to come back and…close things up. I'll try to do it before you have to go out again. How about that?"

He tried to smile, but he had a giant lump in his throat and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. "Yeah," he choked out and then he heard her crying too. He wiped his face, breathing in as deeply as he could, trying to be strong. "Just let me know, okay?"

"I will." Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her.

"I love you, Connie," he said.

She let out a sob. "I love you, Chip. I need to go, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he said and then he realized she'd already disconnected. He leaned back and closed his eyes, but he could feel the tears rolling down the side of his face. It felt so much like an ending.

* * *

"Can you get away?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll be there in a bit." As happy as he was to see her, he was also sad, because it might be the last time for a while. He had no crystal ball, so he couldn't know what might happen. He knew there were discussions going on about a new home for the show, but realistically he knew it was a longshot. It didn't happen often. The fans, though, had been amazing, blowing up social media, pleading for a second chance. His Twitter feed was filled with _#BringBackNashville_ and it always made him smile.

It didn't take him long to get to Connie's house. Or, more correctly, the house Connie was leaving. She had come to pack up her personal things, the things she typically left there during hiatuses, when she went back to LA. The things that had made it homey and personal. He hustled up the steps and knocked on the door. It took a few minutes for her to open it and, when she did, he just wanted to drink her in. She was wearing jeans that seemed to be molded to her legs, a button down shirt that seemed at least a size too big, and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had her glasses on. She smiled when she saw him. Even blushed a little, which surprised him, but pleased him as well.

"Hey," she said, almost shyly.

He grinned. "Hey."

She had a roll of tape in her hand and she used it to gesture to him to come inside, which he did. She lifted her arms and draped them around his neck. He put his hands on her waist and felt her arch into him as he slid them around to her back. She lifted her face and he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily, and a little desperately. He held her tightly, not wanting the kiss to end or to stop feeling how her body felt against his.

"Yoby come with you?" he finally whispered against her lips.

She shook her head. "I'm only going to be here a couple days. Carla was happy to have him visit." Carla was her best friend and the owner of the house with the guest house where they had met that first Christmas break, when everything was still new for them, before his family had made the move to Nashville. He wondered if she'd ever told her friend about them, if she'd told her now. But he didn't want to spend time on that. He kissed her again and she responded fully. He heard the roll of tape fall onto the floor as she used both hands to cling to him, her hands against the back of his neck.

He slid one hand under her shirt, letting it trail up her abdomen, then pushing up the cup of her bra, his lips not leaving hers. She moaned into his mouth as he cupped her breast, lingering on her velvety soft skin, before finally pinching her nipple gently between his finger and thumb. She rubbed herself against his hardening erection. He was so focused on how tight and hard her nipple was that he didn't realize one of her hands had left the back of his neck until he felt her tugging on his zipper.

"Connie," he murmured, but she was working on his zipper, now with both hands, almost insistently. He kept playing with her nipple, tugging and pulling, then rubbing his thumb over it until she groaned.

She finally pulled the zipper open and reached for him. Now it was his turn to groan, as she slid his briefs down and then took him in her hands. She looked up at him. "I need you _now_ ," she murmured, her voice husky and deep. She moved her hands and started frantically unzipping her jeans. She turned her back to him and rocked back and forth with her hips, pushing her jeans, and her panties, down her thighs. "Please, Chip," she begged, as she put her hands on the foyer table and bent over slightly, her absolutely perfect ass begging him to take her. He had a vague sense, in the back of his head, that there were some of those side windows next to the door, couldn't remember if they were covered, but he was too far gone at that point to care. He grabbed her hips, nudged her legs as far apart as they would go, with his knee, and plunged into her with a groan.

She was warm and wet and she rocked back towards him as he thrust into her over and over again. He leaned forward, his face against her neck. "Oh, God, baby," he murmured. She was moving her hips frantically and it was driving him over the edge. She reached between her legs and he lost it, pushing into her one last time, as hard and as deep as he could go, crying out her name over and over as he felt himself climax. He could feel her pulsating around him, making little panting noises, and then she squeezed hard, holding him inside her firmly, while she struggled to catch her breath.

This wasn't how he wanted it to be, though. She deserved so much better than a quick fuck and he told her so. "This isn't how I want it," he whispered in her ear.

She nodded. "I know. I don't either. But I needed you." They both sighed and pulled themselves back together and then she turned and looked up at him. "I've just been thinking about you every day since, well, you know." He did know, because he'd been doing the same. "I just, I guess, got myself so worked up about seeing you today. I could barely think about anything else. And then, there you were, and I just" – she blushed then – "had to have you right then."

He smiled, then pulled her against him, resting his hand on the back of her head. "Sometimes it's like that," he agreed. "And you're a hard woman to turn down." She laughed softly. "I've got some time, though, so we'll do it slow and sweet later?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

She looked up at him and nodded, then stepped back and took his hand, leading him into the den. There were a few boxes against the wall, most taped up but some still open. They sat on the couch, facing each other. She reached for his hand, cradling it in both of hers. She looked pensive, biting her lip for a moment, then looking at him. She sighed. "I feel like we should talk about it. About what's next. Do you think you'll stay here? Or come back to LA?"

He took a deep breath. "You know they're working on trying to find us another home," he reminded her. He felt like she'd been avoiding that.

She nodded. "I know. But how often does that work, really? I just feel like we need to…accept it."

He clenched his jaw. He wished she would be more positive about things. "I can't," he said finally. "I need to believe there's hope."

She looked away. "I know." She breathed in and then looked back at him. "I was interested in seeing what the new showrunners would do. Callie was really excited and she said she liked their ideas."

He nodded. "I was hoping they could, you know, fix things." He tried to smile. "Maybe they could start with Deacon in the shower and, when he walks out, everything's different."

She gave him a teasing smile. "Everything?"

He had to laugh. "Well, maybe not _everything_. We could keep the part where Deacon and Rayna are together."

"I would have to agree with that part, for sure." Then the smile faded from her face and she looked pensive. "So will you stay here, do you think? What will you do next?"

He knew he needed to answer her as if the show was over for good. She was right, it didn't happen often that a cancelled show got a reprieve, and he didn't want to get his hopes up too high. "Well, first of all, we have the rest of the tour, which they're still letting us do. But, you know, I'd like to pursue the music. Doing this show has really made me realize how much that means to me."

She gave him a little smile and reached for his hands. "I think you should. I can see how much it energizes you and you really should do the things you love. The things that give you joy."

"Is that what you're doing?"

She lifted one shoulder and made a face. "You mean like going back to LA? I mean, I guess. If I'm going to be an actor, then that's the best place for it. And that's what I know and what inspires me." She let go of his hands and turned around, letting herself lean back against him. "I want to explore as many different things as I can. I feel like I don't have so many years left to be a lead. Or even a strong supporting player."

He wrapped his arms around her. She grabbed his wrists and he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You're gorgeous, baby," he murmured. "You can have your pick of whatever you want. You know that."

She laughed a little. "Oh, I don't know. I mean, I'm almost fifty. At some point I can't play a Rayna Jaymes or a Tami Taylor anymore."

He smiled. "Sure you can. My money's on you." They sat together quietly then for a long time. He considered that this might be the last time he saw her for a while. He had no idea where life would take them and, for all her certainty that they could make it work, he was afraid it would be harder than either of them realized. Finally he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Let me say goodbye to you the way I wanted to." She untangled herself from him and stood up, holding out her hand. He took it and let her pull him up. Then he put his arm around her shoulder and she put hers around his waist and they walked up the stairs.

* * *

His whole body felt energized. He couldn't stop smiling and bouncing around on stage. He'd gotten word just before his onstage appearance at Fan Fair and had been thrilled to announce it to that crowd. Then he'd performed on the Riverfront stage in the afternoon and it had turned into a celebratory party with the fans. He checked his phone when he could, but had gotten no texts from Connie. He wanted to connect somehow, but he didn't have a free minute, it didn't feel like. Patty was hovering at his elbow and he couldn't get away.

Deep down inside, he knew Connie probably would have different feelings than he did. He'd watched some of her appearances immediately after the network cancellation and she'd seemed relieved, happy, relaxed. The tension in her face had been lifted and she'd seemed younger somehow. It had occurred to him he hadn't even noticed how much the stress and unhappiness had worn on her. When it had become apparent that the show was being shopped to other networks and platforms, he'd sensed the change in her demeanor. When he had seen her two weeks earlier, she had none of the hopefulness he'd wanted her to have. It had been as though she refused to acknowledge the possibilities. Packing her house had made it feel like she was ending it, that it was over, and that she wasn't even entertaining the idea things would change.

When he had left her that day, he'd felt anxious, confused, apprehensive. She'd been warm and loving and she'd clung to him, and he had later realized that could be interpreted in many ways. He'd chosen to believe she was just sad at the separation, and the idea they might not see each other for a while, and hadn't allowed himself to think anything else. But now that the show was being picked up by CMT and they'd been given a reprieve – the show as well as his and Connie's relationship – he was very conscious of her silence.

* * *

On the way to the final rehearsal for the UK tour, he called her from the car.

"Hey," she said when she answered, sounding more upbeat than he'd expected.

"Hey. I was a little surprised I hadn't heard from you today."

"Oh. Well, Yoby and I went to a pool party and there just wasn't time." She paused. "I did hear the news though."

He tried to listen for her tone, but he couldn't get a good read. "How do you feel about it?"

"I'm fine with it. I hope it means things will be better, you know?"

He breathed in. "You're planning on coming back, right?" His heart felt like it was in his throat as he waited for her answer. It wasn't a given. With them moving to a new network, contracts would need to be reworked, which could give her an out.

"Of course."

That still didn't make him feel better. "But…you have reservations?"

She sighed. "Chip, you know how I feel. And there are creative aspects to it as well." She took a beat. "Listen. You know I love Rayna. I love Rayna and Deacon together. That part has been magic. At least the part where you and I got to work together. But that last year or so really weighed on me. Took a lot out of me. You know that."

He did know. "But it'll be different. New showrunners. New writers. Better stories." He knew he was begging a little bit, but he wanted her to be excited about it too. He decided to put it out there. "You and me, baby. More than anything, you and me."

She didn't say anything immediately. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited. "That goes without saying, my love," she said softly. "That's the part that means the most." She sighed again. "Look, at this point, I'll be back. I hope it's fantastic. I want it to be. I'm actually meeting with Marshall at the end of the month and I'm looking forward to that conversation." She paused again. "I know you're listening to everything I say and trying to interpret it."

He chuckled softly. "Busted."

"Don't. Please know that the biggest part of why I'd come back is you. But there are other considerations. I mean, I gave up that house and shipped my things back. Cancelled Yoby's spot in school. It's logistics too. That's a big part of it. All of those things need to be undone, if they can be. It's a lot."

He hadn't considered any of that. "I didn't think about that," he admitted.

"Look, we'll talk soon. I have a couple little side projects I'm being considered for and I'll tell you all about them if and when they come to pass. I know you're leaving soon for the UK, right?"

"Yeah, tomorrow actually."

"Well, that's going to be fantastic, and I can't wait to hear all about it. And then before you know it, we'll be back at work. And we'll have more time."

He breathed out, trying to find solace in that, still feeling a little like the other shoe was going to drop. But maybe it was just his own anxiety. "Yeah, you're right. I'll look forward to that."

"I love you. Have a great trip."

"Love you too." When he disconnected, he tried to focus on the things she'd said that were positive and chalk up the rest to those logistical issues she mentioned. But he couldn't completely get rid of the vague apprehension and knew he probably wouldn't until she was back in Nashville.

* * *

It was mid-July. He was surprised to hear from her and even more surprised to hear she was in Nashville _. Just for a couple days. But I really want to see you. Need to see you._ It had always been tough during hiatus, because she was constantly busy. He understood why. He hated it every time, but he'd gotten used to it. It was hard for both of them, without the show to give them excuses to see each other, be together. Hard because his wife made it feel like one of those escape games, just to get some time alone.

The weeks between the ABC cancellation and the CMT rescue of the show had been torture. It was too soon and his biggest fear had been losing her for good. There was no reason for her to stay in Nashville and he hadn't been ready to make the break. So getting that sweet reprieve had felt like a sigh of relief. For him, anyway. She had seemed more conflicted, which had surprised him, but he hadn't had much time to think about it as he got caught up in the whirlwind of excitement about the pickup and the cast tour in the UK.

No one knew she was in town, so the reins had been loosened somewhat, and he pushed the speed limit driving to their spot. There was already a car there when he arrived and he jogged down the path, anxious to see her. When he got to the break in the trees, he could see her standing right at the edge of the water, wearing shorts and a sleeveless tank top, sandals on her feet and a ball cap on her head. She turned at the sound of his approach and a smile broke across her face when she saw him.

He stood still for just a moment, taking her in, feeling so happy to see her, his heart bursting. Not only had the show gotten a reprieve, but they had too. She ran into his arms then, throwing her arms around his neck as he pulled her in. Her lips met his and they kissed each other with all the pent up longing they'd had since he'd seen her in May.

When he finally pulled his lips away, she looked up at his face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheeks. She laughed. "You're letting your beard grow out," she said.

He grinned. "Just lazy," he said. "I'm not as good at that scruffy shaving thing, so it's kind of easier to let it go." He kissed her again. "This is a surprise. I didn't expect to see you quite yet."

Something crossed her eyes then, something he didn't recognize and it made him apprehensive, although in the moment he couldn't have said why. She looked off to the side. "I needed to talk to you," she said. "Before…well, before you heard it some other way."

Now he really was worried. "What?" he asked, his heart in his throat. _Was she breaking up with him? Had she met someone else?_

She sighed, then dropped her arms from around his neck and took two steps back. She turned and walked towards the edge of the river, forcing him to follow. She crossed her arms over her waist and looked straight out over the water. "I know you know how hard that last season was for me," she started. He did know. She'd hated almost every minute of it. The conversations they would typically have about story and motivation and how to infuse the characters with what they believed was true to them, had been mostly anger and recriminations and fury over the direction. Even the wedding hadn't changed that. He sensed there was more and now he had a sense of foreboding and he made himself stay silent. "I had to do a lot of serious thinking. I really thought, when the show was cancelled, that it had made my decision for me, that I didn't have to do what I knew I needed to do. But then, you know." She looked over at him then, a heart wrenching sadness in her eyes.

"We got picked up," he said, hearing how flat and emotionless his voice sounded.

She nodded. "We got picked up," she whispered. She cleared her throat. "Chip, I need you to know I didn't make this decision lightly, and it has nothing to do with you. In fact, that actually really made it so much harder." He steeled himself because he knew she was getting ready to tell him something he didn't want to hear. She looked back over the water. "So I went to Marshall and we talked. I was excited, you know, when I heard he and Ed were taking over, back when we thought we'd be renewed, and I thought it would get better." He _did_ know. They'd talked a lot about that and he'd thought she was reenergized by the idea, at least until they'd gotten cancelled. "But it had really been a relief, actually, when the show was cancelled. And in my head, I'd moved on." She looked at him almost apologetically. "Professionally, anyway."

He put his hands on his hips and set his jaw, staring out over the river. "So what, you quit?" he asked, his voice sounding angrier than he'd meant it to.

She didn't say anything at first, just looked away. Then finally she said, "Yeah, I quit."

He felt white hot rage. He put his hands to his face, then threw them out in frustration. "So, you threw us all under the bus? Right when we all got a second chance? You just decided to be selfish?"

"No!" she cried out. "That is not it at all and I can't believe you'd even say that!" He turned to look at her and she was red in the face and her eyes were steely with anger. "I did _not_ make this decision lightly, but I had to. For so many reasons."

He huffed. "Okay, so you quit. And you told me." He turned to go but she grabbed his arm.

"I'm not _finished_ ," she said tersely.

He threw his hands up. "What the hell else is there?"

"We worked out a deal. Because I _didn't_ want to just leave everyone in a lurch. Because I _didn't_ want to be selfish, as you say." He just glared at her. _She's leaving me._ "I'm staying for ten episodes. To finish out Rayna's story. To give Rayna and Deacon the magical moments they deserve."

He rolled his eyes and laughed bitterly. "Giving Rayna and Deacon the magical moments they deserve. What the hell does that even mean? And what about Chip and Connie? You're abandoning that too."

She looked away then but not before he saw the tears in her eyes. "That's not what I'm doing," she whispered brokenly.

He couldn't help it. He was angry and hurt and devastated. He stepped away from her. "Really? Is that what you're telling yourself now? You're leaving Nashville, the city _and_ the show, and it's not about leaving _me_? Leaving _us_?" He was poking himself in the chest with both hands. "You've been looking for a way to do this for all these years, haven't you? Every break, you come back and you're distant and I have to beg you to stay with me and you act all guilty and like you're compromising your principles" – he used air quotes around principles – "to be with me. Even though you _say_ you love me, that I'm the love of your life, that you'll wait, in the end. This was your chance, wasn't it, to end the show and end us." He knew he was being dramatic, exaggerating even, but he was so deeply, deeply hurt and he wanted to hurt her back.

She was shaking her head. "No, that's not it at all! You know it's not like that!" she cried. "The hardest part of this decision for me, Chip, is about you, because I _do_ love you and you _are_ the love of my life and I _don't_ want to leave you!" Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "But this show is _killing_ me. You _know_ that."

She reached for his arm, but he stepped back, shaking his head. This was like a nightmare. His worst nightmare. "I thought you said you were excited to see what Marshall and Ed had planned. You _did_ say that."

She nodded. "I did. And I am. But in my heart, I was already gone. Please, Chip, I'm not doing this to _us_."

He breathed in deeply, trying to get control over his emotions. Finally he breathed out, still feeling blindsided. "But you are, Connie. That's just it. You leave the show, you leave Nashville, you leave _me_. You leave _us_. I don't know how we do this if you're not here." She put her face in her hands and sobbed. "It's over. I don't know how we get through the rest of whatever time it is you have here, but it's over." He had never felt so empty in his life, his heart completely broken. This felt so much more painful than the Lindley thing ever did. He turned and headed back up the path.

"Chip, please!" she begged as she ran after him, grabbing at his arm.

He shook her off again and stared at her, willing himself to close off his feelings. "We're done. Go back to LA, Connie. I guess I'll see you in September and we'll finish whatever you got, but you and me? We're done." She didn't try to follow him, which was probably for the best, as the tears streamed down his face all the way back to his car.

* * *

He got drunk that night. And for the next several nights. He closed himself off from everyone and, if anyone dared to try to reach out, he'd shut them down, angrily and bitterly. He felt broken in two, shattered. He couldn't even begin to sort through how he would be able to get through the episodes she'd be filming for the fifth season. When he allowed himself to even touch on it, he could feel himself spiraling into the depths of despair. Life after Connie felt empty, like a cold, howling wind, merciless and relentless.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: I thought I'd get this out sooner. The beginning and the end of the chapter were easy to write. But the middle just kicked my ass. Practically taunted me with my inability to write it. I hope you enjoy anyway.**_

She texted him almost every day. _Please talk to me._ He deleted them every time. He drank to cover up the pain, although, in reality, it only made it hurt more. _Chip, please, I need to talk to you._ His heart hurt and he felt like he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't talk to her, could barely think about her. He had several performances with Clare and he knew he wasn't at his best. He'd drink a beer to take the edge off before he'd go on stage and he'd drink another one while he waited for her set to finish. Or maybe two or three more. _Chip, I want to explain. Please call me._ And another to try to help him ignore the hole he felt in his gut.

* * *

He was sitting on the back porch, late one afternoon, when Patty walked out. He heard her footsteps, but didn't look over at her. He lifted the bottle of beer to his lips and took a long swallow, then lowered it to rest on his thigh.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" she asked.

He glanced over at her. She had her arms crossed, but the look on her face was more one of concern than anger. He shrugged. "It's not like I've got anything going on today," he said, looking back out over the backyard and taking another swallow from his bottle, draining it. He set it down with the other three he'd already had.

She walked over to the porch rail, standing in his line of vision, and leaned back. "I don't understand this," she said. "You should be happy. Thrilled. The show got picked up. You've got a full season. It's exactly what you wanted. We're putting out your music, just like you wanted. I don't get it."

He looked over at her. "And your point?" He knew he sounded snide, knew he'd been unpleasant to live with, ever since Connie had told him she was quitting. But he sure wasn't going to share that piece of news with his wife before he had to.

She looked a little hurt and then he felt bad. It wasn't her fault, she was just in the line of fire. "I'm worried. You seem miserable. For no reason," she said. "You don't drink like this. People are noticing. And it's affecting performances." She paused. "And the kids are worried."

That got his attention. "What are they saying?"

She shrugged. "They're just wondering if you're okay. If something else is going on." She looked at him carefully. "Is something else going on?"

He looked away. "It's nothing to worry about. Just killing time, I guess." He thought maybe he should consider cutting back, especially if the kids noticed. It was time to just start to deal with the reality, he supposed. Connie would be back, for a while, and then she would be gone again, this time really for good. He was going to have to figure out what that looked like, what that meant. He needed clarity and he realized he wasn't going to find it in a beer bottle. He looked back at her and gave her a weary smile. "I didn't realize people were paying that close attention," he said. "I guess I need to think about that." He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, clasping his hands together on his chest. After a moment, he heard her walk back into the house.

* * *

They went on their annual beach trip towards the end of August, later than they usually did. But because filming was starting later than usual, it meant they could push it back. It had felt good to be at the beach with family. The weather was spectacular, the smell of the salt air was a balm to his soul, and he spent a lot of time running on the beach with Blue.

About the time they got to the beach, the stories started to hit with rumors that Connie wasn't staying for the full season. She wasn't saying anything about it, but he also knew she was working on a movie, so she was likely not paying attention. She still texted him every few days, still wanted to talk. He was still ignoring her texts, but it had felt like, as he came out of his beer haze and into the bright light along the Outer Banks, the ache began to ease, the dark pit he was in began to lessen, the anger started to fade. It was probably time to get past it.

* * *

He was out on the beach, taking a solitary walk after dinner, the second night they were there. There was the beginning of sunset behind him, as he looked out over the ocean. The rhythm of the waves was soothing, he'd found, and this time of day there were fewer people on the beach. He had just walked out to the point where the water raced up the sand, letting his feet get wet, when he got another text from her. _I miss you. Please call me._ He took a deep breath, feeling a lump in his throat, as he looked at her message. He breathed out and hit call. He put the phone to his ear and waited for her to answer.

"I'm so glad you called." He could hear the emotion in her voice, a little shakiness that made him think she was trying to hold back tears.

"Yeah," he said, not knowing quite what to say next.

"I hate how things were left," she said, her voice quiet. "I didn't know how to say it any other way though."

He sighed, feeling the water rush up around his ankles again, then felt the pull as it raced back out. "I don't think there was any other way to say it," he said.

"I hated how angry you were with me. And probably still are. Obviously still are, considering you've been ignoring me." There was no judgment in her voice, just a statement of fact.

He chewed his lip for a moment. "You know, I probably should have known. It wasn't like you weren't super clear about how you felt." He could hear a little bit of a strident tone in his voice and he breathed in slowly. It wasn't how he wanted things to go. "I know I acted like a jerk," he said, trying to be more conciliatory.

"It was a hard conversation," she said. "For you to hear and for me to have. I truly never wanted you to think it was about us, Chip. Because it's so not. I want you to believe that."

"But the two are tied together, Connie." He wanted to believe they could survive it, but the truth was that separation could end them. She didn't respond. "So you know it's already out there, about you not staying for the whole season."

She sighed. "Yeah, I've seen that. I don't know where it came from, but I'm just ignoring it right now. The agreement I have is that I won't disclose my plans."

He didn't know what to say anymore. His heart was hurting and his feelings were so conflicted. He was still angry, but the truth was, he still loved her. He just didn't know what that would end up meaning in the end. "When do you come back to Nashville?" he asked.

"After Labor Day. I was able to get Yoby back in the school I had arranged, but he'll miss the first week, unfortunately, because of this movie. They're pushing some of my scenes so I can leave earlier." She paused. "Can I see you when I get back?"

He shrugged, knowing she couldn't see that. "Yeah, I guess," he said. He moved back from the edge of the water and started to turn back towards the beach house.

"I'll let you know then."

"Okay," he said and then he disconnected. He put his phone back in his pocket and tried to breathe in, but he felt like there was a vise around his chest and it was like he was gasping for air. He stopped and leaned over, putting his hands on his knees, feeling a little lightheaded. He concentrated on his breathing and on settling his mind. When he could finally breathe more normally, he straightened up and walked the rest of the way back to the house, as the sun continued to sink in the sky off to his right.

* * *

The week was winding down, as was the summer. When they got back to Nashville he'd be getting the script for the first episode for the new season. He was excited about that, but also feeling a little melancholy. Ten episodes wasn't a lot and it would be over before they knew it. His feelings were all over the map. It had been good to talk to Connie, but he still wasn't sure where things would be when she got back to Nashville. He tried to distract himself with activities, but it didn't always help.

One thing that did get his mind off things, at least temporarily, was his Every Single Friday project. He had been performing many of his own compositions, on cast tours, one-off performances, and at the Opry. It had been soul-satisfying to see the reaction by fans, specifically _his_ fans. It made him feel almost like a rock star, seeing fans sing along with him on songs they only heard live. He'd toyed with the idea of an album or an EP, but he wasn't sure there was a cohesive theme. He'd written with a very wide range of songwriters and had both upbeat, fun songs as well as songs that were every bit as soulful as the ones Deacon Claybourne would have written.

He had finally decided that putting out one single a week would be the ticket. But he hadn't realized how much work it would be. In his mind, it was a matter of picking one, recording it, and then putting it out on streaming services and other music platforms. But it turned out to be more complicated than that. He'd had to admit to himself that Patty had been a godsend when it came to taking his dream and making it real. She spent time learning how to navigate the whole process, from scheduling studio time to getting artwork created and then the actual distribution. It wasn't lost on him that she did it, even while having to live with the fact that the two of them were still drifting away from each other from a relationship standpoint. She had taken on the job, though, and seemed to enjoy it and he couldn't help but be appreciative of her efforts.

That they worked together really well in a more businesslike sense seemed to fit with the more platonic aspects of their relationship and he did have to admit that it felt good to feel like partners again, even if it was in a different way. Being on edge all the time and having to handle her moods when Connie was in town had been exhausting. He knew that would change in short order though.

He would be putting out the sixth single on Friday. He tried to plan out two to three weeks in advance, because it could be a scramble each week to get everything to come together in a week. He would record in bursts of two to four songs at a time, so there was typically a small stockpile. He had originally planned to put out 'Spin the Wheel', which fit with some of the other songs he'd put out in the first few weeks. Early into the project, he'd still been angry and hurt and drowning his sorrows, so songs like 'Down at the Lost & Found' and 'I Love You Beer' had seemed appropriate. But as he had trudged back to the house after the call with Connie, he'd decided to make a course correction, even though he knew it could be problematic.

 _Patty was sitting at the breakfast table, drinking coffee. He sat down across from her. "Um, so, I think I want to change the song for this Friday."_

 _She looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "You're kidding, right?" she said, looking irritated._

 _He shook his head. "No, I'm not."_

" _Why?"_

 _He shrugged. "Just woke up and it felt like I needed to put out a different song."_

" _I don't know if we can, Chip. It's not like something you can just push out in an hour, you know. Is it something you've even recorded? Because that would be a deal killer." She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest._

 _While he got that it was inconvenient, he was the artist and he felt like it was his prerogative to change his mind. "Yes, we have. It's the one I did with Karla. 'Dream With You'. That's the one I want to do."_

 _She narrowed her eyes. "Why that one?"_

 _He sighed with annoyance. "Because that's the one I want to put out," he said, being deliberate with each word, which he knew pissed her off._

 _He could see her clench her jaw. She looked away for a moment, then finally back at him. "I don't know if we have enough time," she said, her voice quiet and clipped. "I'll see."_

 _He got up from the table. "Please do." Then he turned and walked out._

* * *

He would be tempted to say it wasn't as big a deal as Patty made it sound, but he thought that might not really have been the case. He had already recorded the song and had intended for it to be released later, but he felt like it was the right timing. He'd written the song for Connie and, with her coming back to Nashville, he wanted to make his own statement to her. It had felt right, once he'd made the decision. They'd had to use stock artwork, because of the timing, but he didn't really care. It was the song he wanted.

He put out his weekly teaser tweet for the new song, looking out over a beach scene not too unlike the one for the song. He smiled to himself. He heard the screen door open and shut and he glanced back to see Patty walk out onto the porch. She walked over to the railing and just stood there, looking out over the ocean.

After several minutes passed, she spoke, not turning around. "So is she really leaving?"

He didn't immediately respond, trying to decide what to say. "That's the rumor," he responded, deciding to hedge.

"I'm sure you know," she said, her voice tight.

He breathed in, then rubbed his face. "Yeah, I do." He paused. "We're screen partners. Our characters are in a relationship. It would make sense that she'd let me know if the rumor is true or not."

She glanced back at him, her face hard. "So I'll ask again, is she?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's not for me to say."

She turned and leaned back against the railing. "The song was for her, wasn't it?"

He was tired of the dance. "I was thinking about Deacon and Rayna when we wrote it."

She made a face, then pushed off the railing. "I hope she _is_ leaving. I'm ready to be done with this," she said, then walked across the porch and inside the house, letting the door slam shut behind her.

He took a deep, cleansing breath. _I'm ready to be done with this too._ Although he knew what he meant by done was very different from hers.

* * *

 _I'm back._ He didn't respond right away. He knew she would understand. But he kept pulling his phone from his pocket and looking at her message. He hadn't really needed her to tell him. It was as though something in the air changed and he knew. It made him consider the connection the two of them had developed over the years, the way they understood each other. They would comment sometimes that they were becoming their characters – and then they would laugh – but the truth was, he thought the lines were really blurred between the two. Connie had acknowledged once, back early in season 3, that she felt like their personal chemistry flowed into their characters and was what connected with fans.

 _They don't know they're seeing us when they see Rayna and Deacon interact. The pull between the two of them, even when they're not together, I believe comes from us._ He'd thought about that a lot. He did recognize it when he saw it onscreen. But it had also been there from the start, before there had been Chip and Connie. It was easy, though, to look at Rayna, the character, the way he would look at Connie. And it made it real. He wondered, with her departure looming over them, if they could recapture that.

It was late in the day when he was finally alone and could call her. He lifted the phone to his ear and waited for her to answer. "Hey," she said, sounding a little breathless.

"Hey." He smiled. "You busy?"

"I left my phone downstairs and had to run down to get it." She paused a second. "I was hoping it would be you."

"You got everything all moved back in then?"

"Pretty much. Yoby went back to school today and he's a little behind, of course, so we've been doing some catch up."

"He has homework?"

She laughed. "Not really. Just catching up with what they've gone over so far. But, you know, he's a smart kid, so he's picking it up fast."

"He _is_ a smart kid." He grinned. He could see that Connie had passed on her natural curiosity to her son, giving him permission to explore everything. He loved watching the two of them together. "You see the script?" The premiere episode script had arrived that morning.

"Yes, I did." He could hear the smile in her voice. "And I love it. I love Rayna and Deacon, I love the pace, I just loved everything about it."

He felt a lump in his gut. "Enough to change your mind?"

He heard her sigh. "I can't go back now," she said, almost sounding regretful. "Even if I wanted to." She cleared her throat. "So, was that song for me?"

"What song?"

"The one you put out that Friday after we talked. The one you told me you wrote for me."

She'd switched gears so fast he'd completely forgotten. He smiled a little. "Yeah, it was."

"Thank you." Her voice was soft and he could hear a hint of tears. "I still want to see you. Do you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Maybe Friday?" The kids were in school and he knew Patty was doing something at the school that day.

"Sounds good. It's a date."

* * *

Her car was there when he drove up. His pace got slower as he got closer. He'd played this scene out over and over in his head, ever since she'd called, but it never went the same way twice. His feelings were all mixed up and he felt both hopeful and apprehensive. When he finally got to the clearing, he saw her at the edge of the river. She turned towards him and the sunlight behind her seemed to illuminate her, to the point where all he really saw was the outline of her. He could see that she had her hands clasped in front of her, as though she was nervous too.

She stepped forward and out of the glow of the sun and he could see anxiety on her face too. There was a hopefulness in her eyes, but he could see she was still unsure. He breathed in and then smiled and she ran into his arms, a smile breaking across her face. He held her tight, one hand on the back of her head, and he felt her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He didn't want to let her go, as though if he held her forever, she couldn't leave. Couldn't leave _him_. He shifted slightly and found her mouth, kissing her like she'd been gone for years instead of just months. He sensed no hesitation in her and he was grateful.

When they finally stepped apart, she put her hands on his face and smiled up at him. Then she scratched his cheeks. "You're scruffier," she said, with a laugh. "Your summer beard?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Sorry if it's too much."

She shook her head. "I kinda like it," she said. She raised up on her toes and kissed him again. "I'm so happy to see you." She moved her hands to his arms. "I missed you."

He breathed in slowly and looked up towards the sky, squinting at the bright sunlight. Then he looked back at her. "It's been a lot to process," he said.

She nodded. "I know. And again, I'm sorry." She looked up at him. "Will you forgive me?"

He looked out over the river, then back at her. "It's not really about that, Connie," he said. "I mean, you told me you were unhappy. I knew you wanted the show to be over, to make your decision for you. You made the choice you thought was right for you. I'm not gonna fault you for that."

She looked at him seriously. "But you're still angry with me."

He shook his head. "Not really. Like I said, though, it's a lot to process."

"Can we sit?" she asked. He nodded and she took his arm and they walked together to the edge of the river bank, then sat side-by-side. They sat silently for a moment, then she turned her head towards him and he looked back at her. "So I'm not supposed to tell you this but I'm going to anyway. At some point, they'll probably tell you, to prepare you."

He looked at her and frowned. "Well, that doesn't really sound good."

She shrugged and gave him a sad smile. "I guess." She wrinkled her nose. "I mean, it is what it is."

Now he was curious. "So tell me."

"They're going to kill off Rayna." She seemed to choke on the words a bit and he noticed she had that look in her eyes that she did when she was trying hard not to cry.

He felt stunned. "What?" She just nodded, tears rimming her eyes. "You mean, like murder her?"

She shook her head. "No, but she dies."

He felt blindsided. "I don't understand. Why do that?"

"Well…." She cleared her throat, trying to get control of her emotions, and she wiped at her eyes. "I mean, the alternative is that she goes off on, I don't know, some world tour" – she waved a hand dramatically in the air – "and she's just never seen again. Or something like that." She took a deep breath. "I guess the thought is that she wouldn't just, you know, _leave_ Deacon and the girls like that. And they what, call her or go visit off screen?" She tried to smile. "I mean, I _get_ it. _I_ don't think she'd go off and leave Deacon and the girls either and the truth of the matter is, I _am_ leaving the show. I'm not _planning_ to come back." He looked away. He was still struggling with the truth of that. "I guess it just feels so, well, _final_. You know?"

He looked back at her. It _did_ feel final. Not that it didn't already. She was leaving the show. She would film ten episodes and then she'd be gone. He felt like his heart couldn't take it. "I don't like it," was the only thing he could think of to say.

She sighed. "I don't know that I do either. But then I don't really have a say. They thought it was best. And they're planning the whole season out with that in mind." She slid her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. "I probably could have been talked into doing a few scenes here and there, if they'd wanted that. I mean, at least as long as I'm still in Nashville." He frowned. "Well, I'm staying until Yoby finishes the school year. I don't want to take him out in the middle of the year. So I _could_. If they'd wanted me to. But that's not how they want to play it."

"Couldn't you insist?"

She shook her head, with a sad smile. "I don't have any power. Not like that." She smiled a little more. "Marshall did say that Deacon and Rayna would have that amazing love story though. Everything we thought they deserved." He turned and looked out over the river. The lump in his throat seemed like it was closing off his windpipe. "We just have to make it real."

He looked back at her. She was trying, he knew. She was pleading with her eyes, for him to understand, to let her back in. He swallowed. Then he leaned over and kissed her, drawing her in for a long, deep kiss. When he finally let her go, she brushed her mouth with her hand, searching his face with her eyes. "We'll make it real," he said. He saw tears in her eyes then and he reached up and brushed at one with his thumb. "Why the tears?"

She shrugged and tried to smile. "I was afraid, I guess, that you'd stay angry with me."

He breathed in and took her hand. He smiled a little and shook his head. "Just 'cause I get mad at you doesn't mean I'll stay that way. And it doesn't mean I don't still love you."

She looked at him hopefully. "It doesn't?"

"Nah." He chuckled. "Sometimes I'm not sure if Deacon and Rayna are us or we're them, but I think there's a lot in common there. We fight and we make up. It doesn't have to tear us apart."

She smiled and then wrapped her arms around his arm, leaning against his shoulder. She sighed, a happy sigh, and they sat quietly, watching the river flow by. "Can I ask you something?" she asked.

He glanced down at her. "Sure."

She was silent a little longer, then finally said, "When you think about us together, what do you see?" Her voice was quiet and contemplative.

He breathed in. "This," he said.

"No, I mean like…."

"This," he said, interrupting her. "But all the time. Whenever we want. In the open."

He could feel her take in a deep breath, then let it go slowly. "That's what I see too," she said.


	16. Chapter 16

He was going to try not to dwell on the fact that Connie was leaving. He would focus on the ten episodes they had and try to make them the best he could. He agreed with Connie that, if this first episode was an indication, the intention was to give Deacon and Rayna the story they'd always wanted for them and he was excited to play it. He also tried to focus on the fact that even after she was done, she'd still be in Nashville for several more months. He promised himself to try not to think about what happened next until then.

He still didn't know exactly how they were going to wrap her storyline yet. He didn't know if it was because they hadn't fully fleshed it out or that they were being close to the vest. In any case, he was looking forward to seeing her the next day for the premiere episode table read. He was looking forward to seeing everyone, of course, but her most of all.

After dinner, the night before, he and Patty were alone in the house. Chase was back at school, Taylor and Addie were both off with friends. He could hear her cleaning up the kitchen and then could tell she'd turned out the light. He wondered if she'd come into the den or just go upstairs and read or do whatever it was she spent time on. They had worked together some, earlier in the day, on the next song that would be released, finally agreeing on the artwork, and he thought she might go work on that. But, instead, she came into the den and sat down. She didn't say anything at first and he kept reading.

She finally broke the silence. "So you've never actually told me if she's leaving."

He looked up. It occurred to him then that she never referred to Connie by her name. Hadn't since the first season. It was always 'her' or 'she'. He looked over at her. There was no harm, at this point, in letting her know. The rumors were still swirling, people were still asking, Connie was avoiding the questions or giving vague answers, both of which she was uncomfortable with.

" _I wish I could just say it," she had lamented the week before. She was going to the Emmy Awards in LA and she was certain she'd be asked._

" _So what_ _will_ _you say?" he asked. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. They were at the river. He reached for her hand. "Have you practiced?"_

 _She laughed. "I haven't. Maybe I should." She sat up and looked at him, now serious. "Do you think I should?"_

 _He shrugged. "Might make you feel better to have something planned."_

" _You're probably right." She leaned her head against his shoulder again. "I'm such a bad liar."_

 _He chuckled. "Well, then, think of it as a part you're playing and script out a line or two and rehearse. If you know it's coming, then you'll be ready."_

 _She squeezed his hand and rubbed his arm with her other hand. "You're so smart," she said._

He took a deep breath and decided to just tell her the truth. "Yeah, she is."

"I see." She was quiet for a few minutes. "I guess that was tough news to get."

He nodded. "Yeah. But we'll survive it."

She frowned. "You? Or the show?"

He looked at her over the top of his glasses, then shrugged. "Both." He watched her as she got up and walked away, her posture telegraphing her displeasure. He sighed and turned back to his book. When they were out on the road, and she came along, whenever Connie's or Rayna's name was mentioned, it generally took some serious talking to talk her down. She didn't handle her jealousy well. He couldn't help that fans wanted to talk about Deacon and Rayna and, by extension, Connie.

It wasn't really that he wanted to intentionally hurt her. But it happened.

* * *

The first day back on set was always exciting. Connie always likened it to the first day of school, with everyone excited to see people they hadn't seen all summer, or the prospect of catching up with everyone. This summer hiatus had been longer than the others, with the change in network. Filming was starting a full two months later than prior seasons. He had, of course, been on the road with a number of the other cast members, so there weren't as many he hadn't seen.

She arrived, looking tanned and rested, with no makeup on. She still looked stunning, with that beautiful smile and her gorgeous hair. He had teased her when he'd found out her hair had its own Twitter account and then she'd confided that she actually colored it. That had surprised him. _Really? You don't remember that? When I was first on 'Spin City', I was a brunette with highlights. I gradually went redder every year I was on the show._ He'd gone back to look and laughed to himself when he saw it was true.

She entered the room and everyone seemed to gravitate to her. She hugged people and chatted them up, sending periodic glances his way. When she finally made it to him, she gave him a sassy smile. "Hey, there," she said, and then she wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder as he slid his arms around her shoulders. The hug went on a second or two longer than it probably should have and then they stepped back. She glanced at the table. "I see we get to sit next to each other," she said.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Yeah, we do, but no playing around," he said, his voice low.

She laughed. "Maybe later," she murmured and then walked off towards craft services.

* * *

After the read through and some time spent in wardrobe, he found her waiting for him outside his trailer, sitting on the steps. He smiled when he saw her. "Can't believe you actually beat me out," he said, with a laugh.

She grinned. "Well, I didn't have much in wardrobe," she said. "I'm spending my time either in little shorty pajamas or naked, so…." She waved her hands in the air and laughed.

He smirked. "Yeah, I got that naked note on my wardrobe too." Not that they would really be naked, of course, but there would definitely be more skin shown, to give that appearance. He sat on the step below her, turning slightly in her direction. "So you ready for that?"

She smiled sweetly. "Yes, I am. I'm so damn ready for Rayna and Deacon to have a normal marriage. Well, as normal a marriage as they can have, considering they're famous people and all."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "You don't think famous people can have a good marriage?"

She hesitated. "That's not what I meant." She looked around then. "Yoby won't be home for another couple hours. Can you stop by?" She looked hopeful.

"I can stop by," he said, with a slow smile.

She patted him on the shoulder, then stood up. She walked down the steps and then turned back to him, a sly smile on her face as she struck a playful pose. "Well, let's not waste any time then, shall we?"

* * *

He walked up to her front door and knocked. He stood with one hand against the door jamb and the other tucked into his pocket. When she opened the door, she looked at him and then laughed. She reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in. "Come on in, you crazy person," she said, with a grin on her face. He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her and pushing the door shut behind him. She moved her hands to his face, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs, as she opened her mouth to his and he followed suit, their tongues tangling together. She sucked on his tongue for a moment, making a satisfied sound deep in her throat. Then she pulled back and looked up at him, her expression soft, her eyes dark with desire. She glanced behind him at the door. "Lock that, then follow me," she said, her voice husky.

He turned to lock the door, then turned back to see her disappearing down the hallway. He followed her quickly, grabbing her from behind, kissing her on the neck. She squirmed a little and laughed. "I'll follow you anywhere," he murmured, then pushed her towards the stairs.

* * *

It had been too long since they'd been together and, even though they always said the sex wasn't the biggest part of the relationship, it had a way of reaffirming how they felt about one another. How perfectly they fit together. They hurriedly undressed. She had less clothes on and was laying on the bed when he joined her just seconds later. He pulled her into his arms, at first just letting his hands trail over her skin, feeling her silky softness. He let his fingers play over her breasts, rubbing her nipples gently between his thumb and index finger. She caught her breath as they got hard, then bit her lip.

She ran her hands down his arms as he continued to stroke her breasts. She was looking deep into his eyes, telegraphing how much she'd missed him and how much she needed him. He let go of her breasts and pulled her to him again, letting his tongue trace her lips before he lightly grazed her lower lip with his teeth and she opened her mouth to him. He ran his hand down her back, trailing over her ass, then lingering at the apex of her legs. He felt her moan against his mouth and he shifted slightly so he could touch and feel how wet she was. She whispered his name, begging him, letting her foot slide up his leg to give him unfettered entry.

He was still kissing her and he closed his eyes briefly. He was so hard and ready for her, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside her, but he held back, letting his fingers lightly graze over her. She moaned again, tilting herself towards him, pressing against him frantically. He let his fingers linger, gently stroking her as she practically whimpered with her need. "Oh, please, Chip," she whispered. He slowly put two fingers inside her. She was pressing down on him, encouraging him to go faster, but he took his time, until he was completely inside her. He held still, letting her absorb the fullness. She let her foot slide down over the back of his legs, pressing herself even closer. Then he grazed her with his thumb and she came explosively, crying out over and over, as he withdrew his fingers.

He looked into her eyes and smiled, then turned her onto her back and entered her swiftly until he was completely inside her. He was right on the edge too and the warmth and wetness of her was almost too much. He stopped again, letting himself take a deep breath, but she had other ideas. She arched her back and then wrapped her legs around him, holding him firmly inside her. Then she started to move her hips, keeping the rhythm slow but intense. She put her hands on his ass and pressed him closer, then swirled her hips around him. He felt like, for a second, he'd lost consciousness, so powerful was his orgasm. "Oh, God," he shouted, practically lifting her off the bed. He felt her pulsing around him again as she clung to him.

They both went limp, breathing hard. He looked down at her then and she gave him a soft smile. He chuckled. "Jesus, Connie," he said breathlessly.

She bit her lip. "I know. Wow." Then she laughed. "Maybe we shouldn't go so long next time."

He smiled. "Maybe not." He rolled onto his back and breathed out. He looked over at her and she was looking at him. He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers.

She gave him a teasing smile. "Famous people _can_ have good marriages. Or relationships."

"What?" He was confused.

"You know. About Rayna and Deacon having a good marriage."

He remembered then. He couldn't help but wonder what she'd meant when she'd said it. "Just takes work," he said. "Same as everyone else." She nodded.

Her face turned serious. "Can I ask you something?" Her voice was soft.

He frowned. "Course you can."

She breathed in and out. "Was the last song you released about me?"

He thought for a second about which one they'd released and then he frowned again, shaking his head. "No," he said firmly. "No, not at all. I wrote that a while back and it wasn't about you at all." He squeezed her fingers, then rolled onto his side, leaning in to kiss her. "It's not."

She nodded and gave him a little smile. "Okay. I know, I mean, I know it's been sort of up and down these last few months" – she looked at him like she was asking for forgiveness – "and it was my fault."

He shook his head again. "No, it wasn't. You made a decision, I acted like an ass, and now we're good."

She let go of his hand and turned to face him, sliding over so that they were laying close to each other. "That's what I want, for us to be good. I want us to figure this out, you know, what happens after." She reached up and ran a finger down his cheek. "It won't be easy, I don't think."

He breathed in. "No, I don't guess it will be." He put his hand on her hip. "But we'll figure it out. I promise."

She rolled onto her back and took a deep breath. He waited, knowing it meant she had something important to say. She wasn't looking at him. "I told Carla," she said, in a quiet voice. He knew Carla was her best friend and was actually surprised it had taken her this long. She looked up at him then, a worried look on her face. "Don't be mad," she said, looking apprehensive.

He rubbed his hand over his face, then looked at her seriously. "I'm not mad," he said. He knew it was hard. It had been the same for him. He wasn't one to hide things, normally, and it had been tough not to have anyone to talk to about all his feelings, except her. So he didn't blame her. Not really. "I'm not mad," he said again.

She still looked a little worried. "I'm sorry. When I left here, back in May, when everything was up in the air, I just didn't know what would happen for us, and I was so afraid we wouldn't survive it. I just needed someone to talk to about it, cry to about it really. I couldn't keep it inside anymore." She reached for his hand and he squeezed it. "She was so understanding. And she won't say anything, I promise. But it helped so much, you know, to just talk to someone about all of it.

He leaned over and kissed her lips lightly. He hated that she'd felt such despair. "It's okay," he said. She turned towards him, putting her hand on the back of his neck and drawing him to her for a deeper kiss. He rolled on top of her, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her neck, then back to her lips. She looked into his eyes and he wondered if he could love her more. Then they fit themselves together and he thought, again, that their bodies were a perfect match to each other. As he let himself get lost in their lovemaking, he stopped thinking about anything other than how perfect this was.

* * *

They were filming a series of scenes at the Doubletree Hotel in downtown Nashville. It would be a long day, although his part was relatively short. He knew Connie had been there early, filming a series of establishing scenes to set up Rayna's Silicon Valley trip. His part of the filming would be in the middle of the day – two primary scenes – focused on Deacon's arrival at her hotel room and the bedroom sequence.

When he arrived, they were running behind. He walked over to the room where they were doing hair and makeup. He was ready in very short order and, because there was a crowd of cameras and other gear in the hallway, he decided to stay put until he was called on set. He always enjoyed having fun with the ladies and they were laughing together when Connie walked in. She was wearing a shorty pajama set that set off her long, slender legs and he raised his eyebrows and gave her a wolf whistle.

She made a face and, as she sat in the chair next to him, swatted his arm. "Stop it," she said, with a laugh. "Hey, I need a robe or something over here," she called out. "I'm feeling all exposed here." Then she laughed again.

He looked at her and winked. "You been wearing that all day? I should've gotten here sooner." He grinned. "You think Callie would've let me sit in?"

She swatted him again. "Shut it," she said, but he heard the amusement in her voice. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes, but the little smile stayed on her face as she let the hair stylist take down the messy bun and work to reorganize the waves in her hair. He smiled to himself as he watched. The first scene they would shoot would be Deacon showing up at her hotel room, but the second part of the scene was the one he was looking forward to. The bedroom scene, the beginning of refocusing Deacon and Rayna, they'd been told, moving past the less satisfactory parts of the previous season. He was cautious, though, since Connie's exit, and Rayna's death, loomed large. It was on both their minds.

 _They were sitting next to each other on the couch, before he had to leave. She had her legs drawn up to her chest, her chin resting there. "I like what they've written for us, in this first episode, but I'm worried," she said._

 _He frowned. "About what?"_

 _She turned her head, laying her cheek on her knees. "I worry about what happens…after."_

 _He rubbed his face with his hands, breathing in and nodding. "Yeah. Me too. I guess I've been trying not to think that far ahead."_

" _I'm worried about what they'll do to Deacon," she said._

" _You mean, maybe make him go off the wagon or something?"_

 _She lifted her head up. "I'm afraid they're going to pair him up with some new woman." She smiled a little. "Because sad Deacon wouldn't be much fun."_

 _He looked at her for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. "You're worried about Deacon going out on the prowl?"_

 _She punched his arm. "Stop."_

 _He smiled at her. "Baby, I think they've gotta give him time to grieve. I mean, I know he was kind of a girl in every port kinda guy when they weren't together, but I think it won't happen, at least not right away."_

 _She gave him a sly look. "How would you feel about it, though?"_

 _He thought about it, both from his personal standpoint as well as his character's. "Well, I personally would not like it." He smiled. "You're the only one for me." He leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips. "I think Deacon needs a good, long time to move past Rayna. She's been the one for him for so long. The love of his life. I just think that he won't let her go so easy."_

 _She gave him a little smile, then leaned her head on his shoulder, holding onto his arm. "That's what I think too. So I hope they don't rush anything." She sighed. "Here's what I think, Chip. Neither of us have any control over what happens after, but we can put ourselves fully and completely into how our characters relate to each other. They have loved each other for, I think, like twenty-five years, or something, and I want it to look like it."_

 _He took a deep breath, then breathed out. "Then that's how we'll do it."_

She tapped his arm. "Hey." He was startled for a moment, coming back to the present. She frowned a little even while she smiled. "Where were you just then?"

He took a deep breath, then let out a short laugh. "Just thinking about our scenes." He looked over at her. Her hair was in soft waves around her shoulders and her makeup had been refreshed. He smiled and her frown went away.

* * *

They were standing in the front room of the suite, cameras and equipment making it hard to find enough space for the four of them to talk about the scene. Marshall was there for the filming of the episode and he talked to them about the emotions of the scene. Rayna's fears and her struggle to find herself and her voice. Deacon's gallant gesture and his desire to take care of his wife, the way he always felt she took care of him.

"There's a sweetness I want to be sure we get," Callie added. "This is Deacon and Rayna the way I think our fans see them. They know each other so well and what the other needs. Deacon just knows it's not enough to talk her through it. He needs to _be_ there to _get_ her through it." She patted his arm. "I think the two of you know what it looks like, how to sell it." She looked at them both, and he thought he saw something in her eyes, but then it was gone. "You ready?" They both nodded. "Okay. Chip, outside in the hallway. Connie, in bed." She smiled. "Let's make some magic happen."

* * *

He was grateful their first two scenes together were these. Although this sequence would appear roughly three-quarters of the way through the episode, it felt like it was the epitome of all that was Deacon and Rayna. The other scenes they had were good and set up a more functioning relationship for the two of them, but these two seemed to confirm, once and for all, that they were a team, a very entangled, inevitable team. Somewhere between the end of season four and the beginning of season five, they'd put aside the stiffness, the uncertainty, the need to replay their old hurts. He liked the idea that they just put all that aside, without any explanation, almost as though it had never happened. He had no doubt that they would still fight and be passionate in that way, but _that_ , to him, was what they were about.

He waited for the hair stylist to come into the room. Callie had thought Deacon's hair didn't look messed up enough to portray some very lusty lovemaking between the two. In her mind Rayna would have been incredibly turned on by the fact that her man had come to her rescue, that he understood her so well that he would have jumped on a plane just to help her through it. The stylist rubbed some gel on her fingers and then he could feel her pulling and tugging at the hair on top of his head.

He frowned good-naturedly. "What are you doing?" he asked.

The stylist smiled, then looked around to make sure no one else was listening. "Deacon needs to look like there was some serious shenanigans going on in that bed," she said conspiratorially.

He chuckled. "Whatever you say."

When he walked into the bedroom, he could see Connie laying back against the pillows. He knew her first line was _'You messed my hair all up'_ , but from his vantage point, it didn't look messed up at all. She looked over at him and first her eyes got really wide and then she howled with laughter. "Oh, y'all, I don't know that I can do this with a straight face," she said.

He frowned. "What?"

She had her hand over her mouth and she was still laughing hard. "Your hair," she choked out.

He was still frowning. "What about my hair?" He turned until he found a mirror and then saw what had made her laugh so hard. He'd never seen anything quite like that. He reached up and touched it. It felt stiff from the gel and almost didn't look natural. "Holy shit," he muttered.

When he turned back around, he could see that Connie was still giggling and even Callie couldn't keep from smirking. But there wasn't much he could do about it, so he just shrugged and grinned. It would never be said that he couldn't roll with the punches and laugh at himself. He walked over to the bed and climbed in, letting the sheets be arranged around him. He looked at Connie and she laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "That looks more like little boy Deacon." Then she laughed again and he put his hand over her face, which only made her laugh harder.

It took five takes before she stopped laughing hard every time he popped his head up. But then he was also more than happy to lay there, his arms around her and hers around him, feeling her hands on his arms. On the sixth take, he took a section of her hair and brushed it across her face, something that was not in the script, and she laughed yet again, but it felt more natural to the scene that way.

When they finally got completely through the scene, they waited while Callie and Marshall took a look at the film. She reached out and started to touch his hair and he jerked his head back. "Hey now, we might still need that," he said with a grin.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Seriously, Chip, that is so not what your hair looks like," she said, keeping her voice low.

She was so close he wanted to kiss her, but he bit his lip instead. "Well, apparently it's the way _Deacon's_ hair looks when there's been…shenanigans under the sheet." He raised an eyebrow. He jerked his thumb back behind him. "At least that's what the stylist says."

She put a finger over her lips and said, "Hmmm." Her eyes were dancing with laughter and she nudged his leg under the sheet. It had been a fun day of shooting, although he knew her day wasn't over yet. The unintended benefit of her peals of laughter over his hair were that he got to kiss her. A lot. "You think we gave them enough of us?" she asked then, her voice low, interrupting his thoughts. "Did we sell it?"

He chuckled and buried his face in her shoulder for a second. Then he popped his head back up. "We might need to do our own private rehearsing going forward. Just to make sure."

She touched his hair. "I need to see what we need to do to get this to happen," she murmured, then laughed again.

"Okay, guys, we got it," Callie said, walking in from the other room. They reluctantly got out of the bed, as Connie slipped on a robe. They headed to separate rooms, for him to get dressed and for her to hair and makeup.

He scrubbed his face and then worked on his hair with his fingers. He wasn't satisfied with how it looked, so he decided to walk down to the hair and makeup room to get it combed out. As he was headed that way, he saw Connie walking down to the wardrobe room. He whistled and she turned her head. She smiled and raised her hand up in a wave and then he ducked into the room she'd just walked out of.

* * *

He was working a lot, which he was happy about. Most of it was with Connie, which he was very happy about. It made him glad he'd recorded ahead for his Every Single Friday project, because there wasn't a lot of free time for it. With Connie leaving, the majority of the story was focused on her – and, by extension him – as they set up for whatever was going to happen. And with the promise of the kind of magical storyline for Deacon and Rayna, it meant he was being carried along for the ride. Every weekend, though, he and Patty sat down to figure out the next song.

After 'Already Gone Away', they'd picked 'I Know Better Now'. They needed to settle on the one for the end of September. He had four songs recorded and ready to go and they were mulling over which one should be next. She pointed at one of the CD's. "This one," she said.

He looked. It was 'When It's True', about true love and how life was sweeter with the perfect love. He wasn't opposed, since it actually fit in nicely with the Deacon/Rayna story, but also it was another one he'd written with Connie in mind. It made him think back to the beginning of their relationship, when they were both tentative, pulling together, then drawing back. When they finally just gave themselves over to their feelings, it had been like she'd rescued him.

He thought back to when he'd first told her he loved her. She had sent him a picture of the scene where Rayna ended up on Deacon's porch, back in the first season, and told him she loved him. He had done it in reverse, on her front porch, and it had felt like such a weight was lifted, finally being able to acknowledge their feelings. So that song had been kind of a tribute to that. That when love was true everything made sense.

"So is this the one?" Patty asked, drawing him out of his reverie.

He looked up and over, taking a minute to think it through. Then he nodded. "Yeah, I think so." He looked at her and she gave him a tight smile.

"Great," she said. "I'll figure out the artwork. Come up with a couple ideas, based on the lyrics."

"Sounds good." He started to walk out the door to head to the set, then turned back. "Can you come up with two or three choices? I'd like to pick."

She nodded. "Sure."

* * *

He was headed over to Connie's trailer when he got a text from Patty with her artwork suggestions. She'd sent over three ideas and as he scrolled through them, he frowned. "No, no, no," he mumbled to himself as he walked. She'd sent over three pictures of the two of them, back before things had completely gone off the rails. _I thought this fit with the theme of the song. We can even do some creative shading._ He shook his head angrily, but he couldn't deal with it right then. He hustled up the steps to Connie's trailer and knocked on the door, still scowling at his phone.

When she opened the door, she had a concerned look on her face. "Well, what's up your ass today?" she asked, stepping aside to let him enter.

"What?" He was confused.

"Well, you were doing this sort of angry knocking and when I open the door, you've got a mad face. Have I done something?"

He shook his head, wiping the scowl off his face. "No, no, course not." He put his hand on the small of her back, pulling her in for a kiss. "It's got nothing to do with you. Sorry." He slipped his phone in his pocket.

She linked her arm through his and led him over to the bench. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He thought about that, then forced a smile to his face and shook his head. "No. No, I do not." He reached out and rubbed her arm. "What I _do_ want to talk about is this episode. I feel like we're all over the place."

She sat back and seemed to think about that. "You mean the whole episode or just Rayna and Deacon?"

"Just us."

She smiled. "What's bothering you about it?"

He thought about that. "I don't know. I mean, I guess it's this fighting. I thought this was supposed to be the Deacon and Rayna everyone wanted, but we're fighting."

She shrugged. "I don't really see it that way."

He sat back. "How _do_ you see it?"

"Here's what I see." She sat back and started to use her hands as she talked, which sometimes distracted him, but he tried to focus. "I think it goes back to a couple things. One is that these are two people who are inevitably entangled. They've always seen themselves as being part of each other and music is one of their connection points. Writing music, playing music, performing music, it's who they are to each other. It's one of their love languages." She grinned. Then she pointed at him. "As well as fighting with each other, as you told me."

He smiled sheepishly. "Fair enough."

"I just see it as a lot of give and take in the relationship and it's been pretty skewed in that regard up until this point. Rayna's been in the driver's seat, sometimes because she had to be and sometimes because that's just who she is. She makes decisions, she has a vision, she's kind of run their relationship over the years, like she's run everything else. For a while she had to because Deacon couldn't make those choices and then later it was because she was his boss. And now that they're kind of on equal footing, he's pushing back, not wanting her to make all those choices anymore, wanting to feel like a partner and that he has a voice. And it takes her a minute to get it. He's become his own person, not just the man who's been waiting for her all this time, and she just didn't completely realize it."

He thought about that. "Okay, that makes sense."

She gave him a teasing smile. "Plus this is that real marriage stuff I was talking about. Where two people can disagree and argue about something, but it doesn't change how they feel about each other." She reached for his hand. "I think it's good stuff. Because, you know, in the end, he writes this really sweet song for her."

He nodded and smiled. "This is true."

She scooted over so she was sitting right next to him. "So now, tell me why you were angry when you came here."

He looked at her. "It had nothing to do with you."

"I know. But you know you can talk it out with me."

He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm just frustrated, I guess. We're working on this week's single."

She smiled. "Which one?"

"Not sure if you've heard it. It's called 'When It's True'. It's about true love and what that looks like, feels like."

She smiled. "That sounds great."

He thought about what to say. "I guess it's just that we have different views on the artwork. I don't want it to be so…personal, you know?"

She took a minute to think about that. "I see. Well, what do _you_ want?"

"Truthfully I hadn't really thought about it, but I don't want it to send the wrong message."

She leaned forward a little bit and looked down at her hands. When she looked back at him, he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Here's the thing. I think you're gonna just have to do that…sometimes. You have fans who think certain things and I know you've told me before that some of them have gotten close to her." They very rarely talked about that part of his life and it always felt so uncomfortable when they did.

He took her hands in his. "Thing is, this song is about you. I want you to know that."

She put her hand on his cheek. "I do. And I think you'll do the best thing. Just remember, it's _your_ work, _your_ vision. Tell your truth."

She always blew him away with her insight and understanding. He leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

In the end, he went with a picture of himself. It didn't say anything he didn't want to say and most of the other artwork had been just him, so it wasn't out of place. Patty brooded about it for a bit, but she finally moved forward with his choice. Connie was right, he would have to deal with it sometime, but it didn't have to be for this song.


	17. Chapter 17

He was ever mindful of the fact that Connie's end date was fast approaching. Marshall and Callie had shared the schedule with her, so he knew her final episode would film just after the new year, but her last meaty episode would film between Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. Sometimes when he thought about it, he felt like he couldn't breathe. They didn't really talk to each other much about it but when they were together, she clung to him a little tighter, it felt like. He always wanted to touch her, not necessarily in a sexual way, but as though he were trying to memorize how her skin felt, the silkiness of her hair. He liked to brush his lips against hers, just to imprint them in his mind, and he sometimes purposefully flubbed a line, in a scene where they would kiss, just to be able to do it again.

When he looked into her eyes or felt her touch on his arm, while they were doing a scene, he drew from his own feelings for Connie to make it real. He knew she did the same. Even small things, like when Deacon would watch Rayna or pay attention to things she said, he thought about how that played out in their real lives.

He wrote more, even though he felt like he had less time. He'd written several songs for her and a couple more inspired by their characters. He ran more, to give himself time to breathe and clear his head. He stayed busy, because if he stopped, he was afraid he would lose it.

* * *

They were halfway through filming the fourth episode, when they found some time to meet at the river. He was sitting on the bank when he heard footsteps on the gravel path. He looked back over his shoulder and watched her approach. She smiled and waved. When she got to him, she bent her knees and put her hand on his shoulder as she lowered herself to the ground next to him. She had on a baseball cap and she tilted her head back slightly to look at him.

"Hey."

He smiled. "Hey." He leaned over and kissed her.

She breathed in deeply, looking out over the river, and then looked back at him. "I think this might be my favorite place on the planet," she said. "It settles my mind." She winked. "Well, most of the time."

He gave her a sad smile, remembering his blow up when she told him she was leaving the show. "Sorry I spoiled it for you," he said.

"You didn't spoil it. You were passionate. I don't fault you for that." She bumped his shoulder. "I _am_ happy that you moved past it and that we're okay though."

He put his arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss. "I didn't want there to be tension between us or for it to be uncomfortable."

She grinned. "So that's the only reason?"

He smiled back. "Well, no, it's not." She laughed. "But it's not all that either." He winked. He took her hand and looked at their hands joined together, then breathed in. "You're my best friend, Connie. You're the only one I can talk to about all of this." He waved his other hand between them. When he looked back at her, she had a serious look on her face. "Maybe that's why it just, I don't know, eats me up inside sometimes. You're not just who I love, you're my best friend."

She put her hand on his cheek and nodded. "I know. It's hard not to be able to share the most important part of your life with everyone. I _do_ know that. And, you know, it's been hard for me too. I think I mostly worry about you though. Are you gonna be okay? How long will it take before we can be together again? And what will it look like when we can tell everyone we know?"

"Are you still committed to that?"

She smiled. "Yes, I am. I know it'll be tough, but the feelings are real. We can talk and text and maybe there will be a few opportunities for us to see each other. I hope to be really busy, which should make the time go faster."

"What's your plan?"

She shrugged a little. "Nothing going on right now, of course, but once it's all official, then I would expect there to be some activity. I don't want to commit to anything that requires too much time. If it were a TV series, maybe just one season." She smiled. "A short season." He smiled back at her. "A recurring role would work, but I don't know. I'll just see what comes. I want to have time to see friends. And I also want to be able to really get into my causes. Children, women's issues, helping to change the narrative in this country. I feel like I'm not doing enough and I want to do more."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm thinking you'll do all those things. You'll do amazing work and I'll be standing over here, cheering you on."

She let go of his hand and drew up her legs. She wrapped her arms around them and put her chin on her knees. "I'm really thinking about how I'm going to get through the rest of these episodes. I just have so many different feelings about it."

He squinted out over the water, surprised she'd brought it up. "So do you know how it's all gonna play out?"

She nodded. "Mm hm."

He looked over at her then, but she kept her gaze out over the river. "You wanna tell me?"

She looked over at him. "I do. But I think I shouldn't. I think you should play it out as it happens."

He rubbed his face with his hands. "I know you told me she wasn't going to be murdered, so I'm guessing it's not the stalker."

She shrugged. "It isn't, but it also kind of is."

He thought about what she'd said, that she wanted to tell him but thought she shouldn't. He wasn't sure what he preferred. "Does it make you think about it?"

She looked at him and he could tell she knew what he meant. "I hate that it's so final. I hate that Deacon is going to grieve and that the two of them won't have their happily ever after, that thing they've been fighting for all this time." She sighed. "Truthfully I don't know whether I would have wanted to come back, really. But I would have liked the choice, I guess." She leaned her head against his shoulder, straightening out her legs and clinging to his arm. "But then I think about the fact that I need to do something else. There's never enough time to stretch myself creatively. I can't really do a real meaty part, because of the filming schedule. I want to do shorter things, or if they're small parts I'd like them to be creatively satisfying. I just feel like I've done everything I set out to do here."

They sat like that for a long time, just looking out over the river and not talking. So many things were weighing on him, so many unpredictable possibilities. There was no crystal ball to tell them the future. When they had had regular hiatuses, it always seemed like it took a minute to get their rhythm back, after being away from each other for three months or so. No amount of phone calls or texts truly bridged the gap of living life without seeing each other. He couldn't even imagine what being apart for a year or more might look like.

He turned his head and kissed her on the temple. She looked up at him, questions in her eyes. He breathed in. "When you asked me if I'd be okay? I'm pretty sure I won't be. I'm pretty sure I won't handle it any better than I did when you told me you were leaving the show." He sighed. "It's just hard to think about letting you go, not seeing you on set, and eventually not seeing you at all." He hated the tears that formed in his eyes. "You deserve so much more than this."

She shook her head. "Please don't say that."

He pulled away from her and then stood up, walking closer to the river's edge. He raised his hands to his head and raked his hair with his fingers, then clasped his hands behind his head. "I feel like you've wasted so much time on this, when you could have been doing something else or…being with someone else." He practically choked on the last words.

Suddenly she was beside him, her hand on his back. "If that was what I wanted, don't you think I would have said so? A long time ago?" Her voice was quiet and even in the still of the place, he almost felt like she was whispering.

He put his hands on his hips and turned to face her. "But I feel like _I_ should have done something." He jabbed his fingers to his chest. "This was all about what was good for _me_. You would have every right to walk away, to tell me you just aren't _that_ kind of woman. That you…."

She frowned then and crossed her arms over her waist, interrupting him. "I don't typically do things I don't want to, Chip. Has this been challenging? Has it been hard? Have I wished it could be different? Yes. Absolutely. But at the same time I've had time to do things that matter to me, been able to make friends here and enjoy time with them, be a really present mom to Yoby. At least when I'm not working. I love you. I don't know how many times or how many different ways I have to say that before you stop beating yourself up or taking all the blame or assuming the worst."

He heard her, but he was still concerned about what would happen when she left. "I'll do it now," he said. "Or after the holidays."

She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Seriously? Don't get me wrong, I would be happy if you did, but I'm still leaving Nashville. You'd be here and I'd be in LA. I don't think you blow everyone's life up right now." She stepped a little closer to him and put her hand on his arm. "You love this job, Chip. You _live_ for this role. I've watched you create something amazing with this character. And now the spotlight is going to turn on you and I'm really going to enjoy watching you take this on." She sighed. "Just trust this, Chip. Don't keep fighting a battle that doesn't need to be fought."

He put his head down and looked at the ground, while she waited him out. Finally he took a deep breath, looked up and pulled her into his arms. He rested his head on hers, holding her close, feeling her arms wrapped around him. "You're right," he said.

He could feel her chuckle against his chest. "Damn right I'm right," she said, then pulled back and looked up at him with a cheeky grin. "I'm beginning to think you've turned into Deacon and you're not Chip anymore."

He shook his head, but smiled. "I just know I'm gonna hate it when you're gone."

"Well, I'm gonna hate it too, but remember that I'm still here until the summer." She let her arms go and pulled away. "Listen, I need to get going and you do too."

He leaned down and kissed her. "I'm gonna trust this, like you said."

She smiled. "Good. Now walk me to my car." She took his hand, threaded her fingers through his and they headed back up the path towards where they'd parked.

She was driving her Mustang, the one she'd used in the premiere episode. He couldn't help but flash back to that – she was wearing a ball cap both times. When they got to her car, she leaned against it. She looked up at him seriously, squinting just a bit. "I know this is hard and it feels like the end is just racing towards us, both the show _and_ me moving back to LA. But I need you to be strong in this or I won't be able to handle it. I'm feeling most of the same things you are, but we've got to tough it out. What if the show lasts, like, three more years or something? Are you going to leave?" He bit down on his lip and looked away. This was, hands down, the best job he'd ever had, and the closest thing to the perfect job he thought he'd probably ever have. "It'll work out, Chip. Like I said, trust in it."

He looked back at her and nodded. "I can't do anything else." He really wasn't at all sure he could, but he would try. He breathed in. "I've got something for you," he said.

She smiled. "You do?"

He opened the passenger side door of his car and pulled a CD out of the console. He turned back and handed it to her. "It's a scratch track, so not finished, but I wanted you to have it." She looked at it. "It's called 'Sounds Like Love'. I wrote it for you. And I mean every word of it."

She looked back at him. "Thank you. I'll listen to it on the way home and let you know what I think." She made a face. "I'm sure I'll love it though."

He smiled a little, then pulled her in for a kiss that went on for what felt like an hour. Then he reached around her and opened her door. She got in the car and fastened her seatbelt, then looked up at him. He leaned on the car door. "Love you," he said.

"I love you too." She started the car and pulled out. He watched until she was around the bend, out of sight, before he finally got in his own car.

* * *

He heard his phone buzz just before he got home. He picked it up and glanced at the text. _I love it. And you._ He put his phone back down and smiled the rest of the way home.

* * *

He'd had to slow down his writing appointments a bit because of work, but he would sometimes stay up late trying to fill in the blanks. He was heading into the studio over the weekend to record and he was starting to feel like he didn't have enough written. He thought about the conversation he'd just had with Mark Collie, who'd told him to stop forcing things.

 _He was struggling with lyrics. He really was just struggling with his idea. He wanted to write something that was kind of jump up on your feet and raise hell kind of thing, but he couldn't come up with anything, not even a hook. He sighed and threw down his pencil, then rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck."_

" _You're trying too hard, man," Mark said, after a moment. "Don't try to write something you don't feel."_

 _He looked at his friend. "It just sort of feels a little like I'm tapped out," he said._

 _Mark shrugged. "Maybe you are. You got a ton of songs, though, so it's not like you gotta have this one." He set his guitar aside. "Maybe you just need to stop forcing the kind of song you want to write, which clearly isn't what's hitting your heart right now." He smiled._

" _I suppose you're right," he said. He felt kind of defeated though._

 _Mark got up and moved over to the bar. "Whiskey?" He held up a bottle of Booker's._

" _Yeah, sure." He got up and walked over, waiting for Mark to pour. He picked up the glass and took a sip and smiled. "Good stuff."_

 _Mark laughed. "Yeah, it is." He nursed his drink for a minute, looking contemplative. "Truth be told, Chip, you've seemed kind of resigned lately. Like maybe something's not going your way."_

 _He shrugged. He had kept quiet about Connie's departure and wasn't going to share it now, but that certainly was not going his way. "I guess you're right. Lots of change ahead."_

" _Not good change, I take it."_

" _I guess it depends on how you look at it." He took a deep breath. "And who you talk to."_

 _Mark eyed him contemplatively. It made him a little uncomfortable and he shifted his feet and looked away. "I'm wondering what's changing," he mused. "Or who."_

 _He looked back at his friend and laughed a little nervously. "Just gotta get through it," he said, not knowing what else to say._

 _Mark squinted his eyes a bit, then walked over to the slider that led out to his back deck. He lived outside Nashville proper on a pretty private plot of land. The view out from his deck was of heavy tree cover and soaring limestone peaks beyond. In between the two, but out of sight until the trees were bare, flowed the Cumberland River, west out of the city. "I'm thinking the rumors are true," he said, not turning around._

 _He felt exposed. Patty had told him more than once, over the years, that his feelings were all over his face, that he telegraphed everything, which usually made him try to hide things behind a smile or a laugh or a goofy face. He took a deep breath. "I can't really say," he said finally._

 _Mark turned then. His eyes were filled with compassion. "You don't have to." He cleared his throat. "But I'd recommend you use it, though. Create a story around how you see things, in the end. Doesn't have to be your exact story, as you know, just how it feels." He smiled. "Why don't you sleep on it and we can get back together and give it another go?"_

He'd driven down to the river then, sitting alone and contemplating what Mark had said. He knew his friend was right. He was forcing things, trying to write something he thought he should write. Everything in his life, though, felt like it was turned upside down, and what he really needed to do was quiet his mind. _Well, either that or use it._ He laid back on the ground, his hands behind his head and his legs slightly bent at the knees. He breathed in deeply and then closed his eyes.

It had been a warm day, but as he lay there he could feel the temperature cooling off. He didn't want to get up though. It was peaceful and quiet, the sun peeking through the trees and a light breeze rustling the leaves. But it was like white noise to him and it made him feel like he'd closed himself off from the world. They were almost halfway through the episodes Connie would be there for and he let his mind drift there.

She'd be in Nashville until the very early part of June, then she would head back to LA. For good. If the show got picked up for another season, it would be much like the current season and he'd have the summer to tour, hopefully, and for some r&r. He thought he would probably be doing some work on his Every Single Friday project. Or not. The family would head to the beach and then they'd be back in Nashville for Addie to head back to school. The thought of Connie not being there, not being able to stop by her house, or meet her here at the river, was just depressing, and he wasn't at all sure how he was going to handle it.

He ran through scenarios in his head. The show could be cancelled – again – after this season. The show could go on for many seasons. He could quit, or be fired from, the show. Maybe it would run for years and eventually the cast would turn over. He could leave with Connie. He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky, clear blue and filled with sunlight. It could be anything in between all those possibilities. It could be something he'd never thought of, something that might surprise him, pull the rug out from under him.

He sat up then, looking out over the water. It didn't much matter what happened. No matter what, he'd be going to her. Going home. He got up quickly and jogged back up the path. He got in his car and rooted around the console and then the glove compartment, until he found a scrap of paper. He jotted down some thoughts and smiled to himself. Then he reached for his phone and called Mark.

When Mark answered, he smiled. "So when do you have some time to write later this week?" he asked, ready to flesh out the new song.

* * *

It was the last day of filming for the fifth episode of the season. It was the only scene either of them had for that day. As he drove in, he was nervous to see her. It was Friday and his latest single had dropped. Patty had chosen the artwork that she'd wanted to use for 'When It's True'. It was a picture of the two of them from a long ago beach trip, taken facing towards the sun, which had created a gauzy image. It could have been any two people. Except that it wasn't. He'd hesitated at first, feeling uncomfortable with it, wanting to say no, but had remembered what Connie had said about letting Patty have her way sometimes.

 _Patty looked at him a little defiantly, as though she expected him to tell her no. "I think this is the one, Chip," she said firmly._

 _He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said._

 _She couldn't stop there though. "I don't know when you wrote this or what it was supposed to be about…."_

 _He held up his hand. "I get it, Patty." He pointed at the print. "Put the title here."_

 _She frowned. "Across the photo?"_

 _He nodded. "Across the photo. It's not a super clear picture anyway. It's why you don't take pictures facing the sun."_

 _She looked mulish for a second, then turned away. "Fine," she said, and he had walked away._

He wondered if Connie had seen it and, if so, what she would think. What she might say.

* * *

He took his time getting to the set, not wanting to give her too much time to talk to him before the scene. She wasn't even there, but Lennon was. They waited in Rayna's kitchen and he noticed she had a sad look about her. "What's up with you, buttercup?" he asked, with a smile, pulling her hair just a little.

She gave him a side eye, but then smiled sadly. She looked around, then leaned in. "We heard Connie's leaving," she said, looking almost like she wanted to cry.

He frowned. "What?"

She opened her eyes wide with surprise. "You didn't know?"

He ignored the question. "Where did you hear that?"

She sighed. "From my mom." She looked up at him. "Is it really true?"

He made a face and shrugged. "Maybe you should ask her about it. I don't really want to speak for her."

She looked thoughtful and then nodded. "Okay."

"Hey y'all. What's going on?" Connie's voice came from behind them and they both turned to face her. "Looks like a really serious pow wow going on there."

He then looked at Lennon, wondering if she would say anything then. But she just smiled and shook her head. "Nothing. Just waiting for you." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

Connie looked at him briefly with a look that said she didn't really believe that, but she let it go. She smiled at Lennon. "Well, I'm here now, so we can get this party started!" She looked back at him with a question in her eyes, but he just smiled.

* * *

She had whispered in his ear, before she left the set, to stop by. He went by wardrobe to drop off his clothes and get redressed, then went to his trailer and scrubbed the makeup off his face. He hadn't noticed anything different about her, like that she was upset or angry, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or confused by it. But maybe she was just waiting for a private moment. He took a deep breath and walked over.

She let him in and gave him a quick kiss, then led him over to the bench. She pulled her legs up under and looked at him seriously. He braced himself. "What was going on with Lennon?" she asked, a worried look on her face.

He shook his head. "Nothing." He had not expected that.

She looked skeptical. "Well, the two of you were huddled up and she didn't look happy."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she was kind of hunched over, in a defeated kind of way." Now she looked worried again.

He sighed. "Sounds like MaryLynne told her you were leaving. She was sad, I guess."

She looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should talk to her. And probably Maisy too. If MaryLynne said something to Lennon, then Maisy heard it as well." She breathed in and looked back at him. "I didn't tell her anything, so I feel like she's passing on a rumor. I don't want to lie to the girls though." She tapped her fingers on the back of the bench, looking away from him. Then she turned back. "What about you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "What about me?"

She gave him a tiny smile. "You seemed a little stiff, like maybe _you_ had something going on too."

He took a deep breath and just plunged in. "I didn't want you to misunderstand about the single."

She looked confused. "What?"

He frowned. "You didn't see it?" She shook her head, still looking confused. "Well, maybe it's nothing then."

She reached for his hand and smiled in a playful way. "Oh, no, you don't get off that easy, Mr. Esten." He smiled a little sheepishly. "What are you talking about? The single."

He took a deep breath, holding tight to her hand, as if he could influence her reaction. "Today's Friday and…."

"Oh, right." The confusion disappeared. " _Your_ single." She smiled again. "So what's the big deal?"

He dropped her hand and pulled out his phone. He found the cover of the single and then turned his phone around to show her. He watched her face as she leaned in just a bit. He could see her jaw tense just slightly, then she looked back up at him. She pushed his hand down and looked serious. "You can put it away," she said.

He felt a pit in his stomach. "I can explain about it. I can." He swallowed hard as she looked at him, a curious look on her face. "I wrote that with a couple other guys. One of 'em was Kyle Jacobs, who's married to Kellie Pickler. And, you know, he's just crazy in love with her and he came up with this idea and we just ran with it. I mean, it's a great song, about a guy who thinks he's so not worthy of the girl he's in love with and then he – Kyle – told Patty it was about our wives. So…."

She put her hand on his leg and pressed down gently so he would stop talking. "Listen. I get it."

He couldn't stay silent though. "You said I might have to…."

She interrupted him again, the beginnings of a tiny smile on her face. "I know. I told you you might have to give it to her at some point." She shrugged. "Apparently this is the point." She did smile then. "I'm okay. Really. I know how you feel about me and I'm not worried. I trust it, Chip."

He closed his eyes for a second and breathed out. Then he looked back at her. "I was afraid you'd be mad. And I'm so sorry I let her do it, but it's not a clear picture, and I had her put the song title over top of it and I'm so, so sorry…."

"Stop." She said it firmly, so he did stop, but then she smiled. "I get it, Chip." She got a teasing look on her face then. "But I do think you're very sexy when you apologize."

He smiled, grateful she was understanding. "Maybe I should do it more often then?"

She grinned, then leaned in to kiss him. "Maybe you should," she said, a sly smile on her face. Then she moved closer and kissed him again.

* * *

He and Connie were standing in Rayna's kitchen, waiting to shoot the next scene. He was leaning over the island and she was standing next to him, propping herself on her elbow. She looked around, then back at him, lowering her voice. "I'm ready for them to get back to the fun, playful side of Deacon and Rayna, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah, 'cept I'm not so sure Deacon's really fun and playful." He smiled.

She grinned at him. "Well, I think Rayna brings that out in him. He's a different person with her." She tapped his arm. "She's his lobster."

He had to laugh at the 'Friends' reference. "I suppose she is at that," he said. "I guess she does bring out a different side." He sighed. "I have to admit this house husband thing doesn't seem like it would be Deacon's kinda thing. Taking Daphne to school and picking her up. A little side job here and there."

"Well, he _did_ do that thing for the young bitchy girl." He laughed. "And he _could_ be working on writing some more songs for his and Rayna's record." She raised her eyebrows and he chuckled.

"Yeah, there is that. I guess I'm assuming he's doing that off camera while he's waiting to pick up Daphne and for Rayna to come home from work."

"Oh, yeah." She put her hand up next to her mouth. "Honey. I'm home!" She laughed playfully.

He gave her a stink eye, then smirked. "So what do _you_ think they should be doing?" he asked.

She leaned in close. "I think they need some sexy time," she whispered. Then she winked at him conspiratorially. "As do their alter egos."

He smiled. "I like the way you think," he said. "Your trailer or mine, after we finish this?"

"Mine."

"It's a date." He looked over to see some of the crew approaching and pushed up from the counter. "Looks like it's go time."

She smiled and turned around, giving him a quick pat on the ass before walking around the island.

* * *

He picked her up and set her on the edge of the sink in the bathroom of her trailer. He nudged her legs apart and stood between them, his hands cradling her face. He could feel her press her legs against his hips and she laughed, low and quiet. He breathed in and then leaned in to kiss her, long and slow. She made a little noise in the back of her throat and grabbed his arms. When he pulled back, he smiled. "Hey," he said.

She grinned. "Hey." She slid her arms up and around his neck and he put his hands on her thighs. "I've missed you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You have, have you? In what way, exactly?"

She blushed a little, then laughed again and pecked him on the lips. "In the naked, skin on skin way," she said. She was so busy on set that, even when they were shooting together, there hadn't been a ton of time to be alone. They were definitely trying to get their money out of her for the time she had left. At her words, he could feel himself get rock hard.

He leaned in. "Wanna do something about that?" he murmured against her lips.

She nodded. "Yes." He pressed against her and she closed her eyes, moaning just a little.

He stepped back then and unzipped her jeans, then grabbed the back of the waist and started to pull them down. She lifted up slightly so he could slide them down over her legs. He tossed them aside, then pressed against her again. "You ready for me, baby?" he asked.

She smiled teasingly. "What do you think?" she asked.

"I think I should check. Just to be sure," he said. He took a step back and moved his hand between her legs, brushing against her, and smiling as she moaned. He slid one finger inside her. She was definitely ready and he lifted his eyebrows and smirked at her. She blushed again and then bit her lip. "Yeah, I would say you're very definitely ready."

She reached out and worked on the button and zipper on his jeans, not taking her eyes off his. He swirled his finger inside her and she stopped, letting her breath out with a low moan. Then she took a deep breath and pushed his jeans down. When she slid his jeans down further, his erection sprung out and she grabbed him gently. "Mmm." She gave him a coy little smile.

He groaned, unable to wait any longer. He leaned into her ear. "What do you want me to do, baby?" he said, hardly able to speak.

She leaned into his ear. "I want you to fuck me. Slow and hard." She sat back and he slid his finger out and pushed inside her, feeling her close around him, warm and wet and like an amazingly tight hug. He put his hands on her ass, pulling her even closer, standing so close to her he could feel her breath on his neck. He felt her wrap her legs around his back and her arms around his neck. He locked onto her eyes.

"That's how I want to fuck you, Connie," he murmured. "Just like that." He dragged out the last three words for emphasis and then began moving in and out of her, picking up the rhythm until he was grinding against her and she was moaning non-stop. It didn't take long before he could feel her getting ready to come, her cries getting progressively louder. He slammed his mouth against hers, feeling the vibration of her moans inside his mouth, which just pushed him over the edge. They came together in big, soul-shaking waves, until she finally seemed to collapse against him and he pulled his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck and hair, breathing hard. She was breathing in and out, her breath warm against his shoulder. He felt her arms slide down until she was clutching him at his elbows.

She let out one last shuddering breath and then she slowly moved back and looked into his eyes. Her eyes were dark, the way they always looked when she either wanted him or had just been satisfied by him. Her hair was messy around her face and she had a soft, languid smile on her lips. She laughed, a low, sensual sound. "God, I needed that," she said, her voice still a little breathless.

He smiled and then kissed her lips gently. "I think we both did," he said.

She draped her arms around his neck. "You know, it's like fireworks go off in my lady parts when I'm around you," she said, giving him a flirty look.

He was stunned for a second, then let out a shaky laugh. "What? Your what?" She shrugged but didn't say anything, just smiled. He let out a short laugh. "Your 'lady parts'?" He laughed a little more.

She scrunched up her face and then sighed. "Okay, my _vagina_ , if you want me to be technical about it, but that just seems so, you know, _clinical_. Would you rather I say vajayjay?"

He laughed harder and leaned in and kissed her. "I'm just gonna say that I'm honored to make your 'lady parts' have fireworks."

She pushed at his shoulders. "Let me get down." She was smiling though.

He lifted her by the waist and set her on the floor. "I need to get dressed so I don't cause any more fireworks in here." He waved his hand around between them and smirked at her.

She slid past him, lifting her chin up, a smile on her face. "Yes, I think you should." She picked up her jeans and walked towards the front of the trailer, as he admired her from behind. He chuckled again at her comment about 'lady parts'. She never ceased to surprise him. He also couldn't deny that the feeling was entirely mutual.

He smiled all the way home.


	18. Chapter 18

He was running late. He'd decided to drive Addie to school that morning, something he didn't get to do often enough. He loved all his kids, but Addie was special. He never looked at her without feeling immense gratefulness that she had survived leukemia. Even though her odds had been significantly in her favor, he knew you could never take anything for granted. It was also bittersweet too, because it was when the threads that bound him and Patty together had started to fray, ultimately fading away almost without them realizing it.

When he and Patty had gotten married, they'd already been together several years, and she had followed him to London and then to LA for his career. He had thought back then that she was his true love, the woman he'd spend the rest of his life loving. There had certainly been a sadness, as things slowly fell apart, but they had been focused and committed to raising their kids, and had fallen into a more platonic relationship.

When he'd met Connie, he'd known immediately that what he'd felt for Patty, back in the beginning, wasn't that once in a lifetime love, one he'd sung about and written about. Everything he thought he'd known about love had been knocked off its axis. And although she stopped just short of asking, he knew Patty knew that. It was why she held on so tight. Well, that and the kids. Whenever they were anywhere, fans wanted to talk about Deacon and Rayna, and he was happy to oblige. He talked about them on stage or in meet-and-greets or in interviews or panel discussions. There was always hell to pay afterwards and it alternately pissed him off and made him feel sorry for her. It had been a hard way to live, for both of them.

Being able to do things like drive Addie to school, going to her and Chase's sporting events, keeping tabs on Taylor's burgeoning career, talking about dad things with his kids, those things were special and he didn't take it for granted. But it had been tough. There had been times – many times – when he questioned himself and his decision. Whenever he had faltered, though, Connie had been the one who'd reminded him why he was doing it. He knew it was at personal cost to her, but it had helped him stay the course. But now things would change. Connie and Yoby would be in LA. He was committed to the show for the duration. It would be the first time they'd been apart for so long. He – Chip, the positive one – was struggling, but he would make the most of the time she had left in Nashville and then they'd see where they were.

He pulled into the parking lot at the studio where he and Connie would record 'My Favorite Hurricane' for the episode they were filming. It would be the first song Deacon and Rayna had written for their album, after some fits and starts, a lot of writer's block, and a tense argument between the two about their process. The way they came back together to write the song was vintage Deacon and Rayna, the passion and fire between the two of them culminating in a beautiful, heartfelt song.

" _This is such an amazing episode, Chip, don't you think?" she had asked him, the day after they got the script. "I mean, it's kind of got everything." They were sitting on a couple stools in Rayna's kitchen. He'd called the current episode the 'Rayna's kitchen episode', because practically all of their scenes together were filmed there._

 _He smiled. "Well, they definitely are out of the kitchen."_

 _She laughed. "That_ _is_ _true." She sighed contentedly. "I just love that we see all the facets of their relationship. The teasing side, how very much in love they are, how they can fight and yet feel that pull back to each other, knowing they're gonna work it out in the end."_

 _He breathed in. "I've really missed them," he said, with a chuckle. "I'm glad they're back."_

He hustled into the studio and down the hall. Connie was sitting on one of the couches outside the studio, her back to him. She was looking down at something intently. He walked around and sat next to her, leaving an appropriate amount of space between them. "Hey," he said. "Sorry I'm late."

She looked up from her phone when he sat down, then slid it into her purse. "You're fine," she said with a smile.

"I took Addie to school. It seemed like it'd been a while since I'd had some one-on-one time with her."

She got that look on her face that told him she understood that pull toward your kid. "I'm glad you had that time," she said. "Is she the only one still at home?"

He shook his head. "Taylor still lives there, officially, although she's gone a lot. But I've been so busy I haven't had much time with her." Work kept him busy and he had shows sometimes on weekends. He grinned at her. "You ready to do this song?"

She groaned and rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Oh, I don't know." She smirked and then sighed. "I'm glad we're doing it together, I can tell you that." She squeezed his arm.

He smiled. "First one we've done together in a while."

She smiled back. "I know." She leaned closer towards him. "I have a little bit of time before I have to head to the set. Could we maybe get some coffee or something and just talk?" She looked at him expectantly.

He nodded. "Yeah, we can do that." For a second he had some anxiety about that, but pushed it aside. _Just trust this,_ she'd said. He'd told her he would, so now he needed to do just that.

* * *

They walked out of the studio side-by-side. The song was beautiful and felt very much like Deacon and Rayna's life together. As always, she seemed to take strength from him to feel comfortable singing. He didn't think she really needed it. He just thought she needed to give herself more credit than she did. As they approached their cars, she looked up at him, squinting in the sunlight, her hand shading her eyes. "I was thinking, while we were in there, maybe we could go to the river," she said.

He frowned slightly. "You do know it's November, right?"

She smirked and waved him off. "I know that, silly. I don't mean walk all the way down there and sit outside. But it's someplace private. I could sit with you in your car."

"You wanna just ride down with me?"

She looked over her shoulder, then back at him. "No, I don't. I don't want someone seeing us get into the same car."

There were a lot of cars in the parking lot, which meant there were people going in and out. "You're right," he said. "So we'll just meet down there?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She patted his arm and gave him a little smile. "I'll meet you there."

* * *

He headed out of the parking lot first, making his way out to the interstate and then over towards the river. He pulled in and parked in a more secluded area and waited for her. Several minutes passed and he saw her pull in. She spotted him and headed towards him, parking her car next to his. She opened the door and got out and he unlocked the doors, letting her slide in. She scooched over as close as she could, turning slightly towards him. She put her hands on his face and drew him in for a kiss. Then she sat back and smiled.

"I kept thinking, back at the studio, that we should have held hands or put an arm around each other or something," she said. "You know? I mean, it's that kind of song."

He nodded. "I _do_ know."

She crossed her arms and pulled her legs up under her, leaning sideways against the seat. "Tell me about your music," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"You know. You've been writing a lot and performing your songs on tours and at the Opry and places like that." She smiled. "How long have you been doing that?"

He breathed in as he thought about her question. It surprised him to go off in this direction, but he wasn't sure anymore if they'd ever really talked about it. "For years. I guess more like decades really. But it's been easier since I've been here."

"Did you think about music as a career?"

He nodded and gave her a little smile. "I did, actually. I loved music even before I got into acting. I was in a band in college…."

She grinned. "You were?"

He grinned back at her. "I was. We called ourselves N'est Pas. It was a little bit of a lark, but great fun. We were passably good, but we loved playing around that area and at college events. I played a little guitar and I knew how to play the piano and I guess I felt happiest doing that."

"Why didn't you keep up with it?"

He breathed out. "Well, you know, obligations. I needed to earn money and I was willing to do most anything – well, except being a male dancer." She laughed and he smiled at her. "Acting was kind of what stuck. I kept writing, kept doing songwriter sessions and writers' rounds. And then I got this job and it was pretty perfect."

She got a dreamy look on her face for a second, then focused back on him. "Will you keep doing it? Writing? Performing?"

"I want to. It doesn't mean I won't do another acting job, but I'd like to try this, for as long as it makes sense. Kind of like putting out these singles. I'll do it until it feels stupid." He let out a short chuckle. "It's the most creative side of me. One I need to keep pushing." Suddenly he had one of those lightbulb moments that hit him like a ton of bricks, and it was a little sobering. "That's what it is for you, isn't it?"

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, her face turning serious. She reached over and laid her hand on his arm. "I know there's not much time left," she said, her voice quiet, not answering his question directly. "Three more episodes, very emotional stuff. It's gonna be emotional for us and it would be easy to just sink into it and feel depressed or sad or angry, and I just don't want us to do that. We still have time before I leave here and I trust us, you know that." He nodded. "I don't want us to fall into a trap of hurt and pain, lashing out at each other. And I know it would be because it feels like we're literally being torn in half." She slid her hand down to wrap over his. He tightened his fingers over hers. "Let's not do that, Chip."

He reached out his other hand to smooth her hair. "We won't."

"I mean it. I don't want negativity. I want us to spend as much time together as we can, because that's what's gonna sustain us until, well, you know. Until we work out logistics and stuff." She looked at him with a pleading look in her eyes. "I've gotten used to you being in my life, being the man I count on, the man who loves me." She gave him a shy smile. "You're so much a part of me, it's like we're inevitably tied together. I don't know if you realize how much it'll kill me to leave you, even for just a little while."

He felt that lump in his throat he felt every time he thought about what was rushing towards them. "I do know, baby," he said. "But this isn't just holiday break or even summer break. It could be a year or more."

She turned her hand in his, threading her fingers through his. "I know. I cry at night just thinking about it. I'll feel empty without you." She looked like she actually wanted to cry and he put his hand on her cheek and leaned in, kissed her gently. "Let's be strong together," she said. "Let's not lose hope. Let's not lose us." He took a deep breath and looked at her. They were still holding hands and she was biting her lip, her head resting against the seat back. He breathed in, then stopped. She smiled softly. "What?"

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head a little. "Nothing," he said. Then he decided he would tell her. "Well, actually that's not true."

"Tell me," she said, sitting up.

He looked at their hands, linked together, and rubbed his thumb over her skin. Then he looked back at her. "I wrote a song. With Andrew Rollins, out behind his house. Sitting by a fire pit, with our guitars and a notebook. Drinking beer, drinking whiskey."

She looked amused. "What kind of song?"

He sighed. "About you. Well, really about Rayna. After she dies." Her smile faded. "I thought maybe Deacon could do it at the funeral because it just seemed like what he would do at a time like that. Because he always says what he feels better in a song. Pitched it" – she raised her eyebrows – "for the show, but they went a different way."

She put her other hand over his. "Oh, Chip, I'm sorry. I'm sure it's beautiful."

He felt a lump in his throat. "It's for you too, although Andrew didn't know that. But it's about her – Rayna – leaving him and he's waiting until they can walk together again."

She looked sad. "Will you sing it for me?" she asked softly.

Just talking about it made him want to cry. He shook his head. "It's still too raw. Maybe later."

She nodded. "I want to hear it. Whenever you're ready to share it."

"I will," he said. Then he cleared his throat, wanting to get out of the doldrums he was feeling. "So when do you need to be at set?"

She sighed, letting his hand go and straightening up in the seat. "One. For wardrobe. She turned to look at him. "Scene with Clare." Then she smiled. "Tomorrow is our night shoot." He nodded and smiled. "Remember when we would sometimes stay at a hotel after a night shoot?"

He smiled a little more. "I _do_ remember." He flashed back to the night they stayed downtown. He looked out the windshield, then back at her. "You saying you want to?"

She gave him a flirtatious smile and shrugged. "I'm saying I wouldn't say no."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face. "Maybe you should be prepared for that then," he said.

She leaned across the console and kissed him on the cheek. "I think maybe I will," she said. Then she put her hand on the door handle. "I guess I need to get going. I'd like to get there in time to grab some lunch."

He gestured with his finger for her to get out, then opened his own door. She got out of the car and walked over to the drivers' side and leaned against it. He walked around and then pressed her back with his body, clutching her waist with his hands. He felt her tilt towards him slightly as she smiled up at him. She linked her arms around his neck and lifted her head up, waiting for him to kiss her. He covered her mouth with his own, lingering on her lips, then nudging them open so he could slide his tongue in her warm, soft mouth. She made a little contented noise as she kissed him back, running her fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck.

When he pulled back, he planted little kisses on her nose, her cheeks, and then on her neck. He smiled at her. "I wish it weren't so chilly and you didn't have to go," he said. He planted a kiss on her lips again. "Tomorrow then?"

She gave him a saucy smile. "Looking forward to it."

He stepped back and reached around her to open the door. She stepped to the side and then turned to get in. "See you tomorrow."

She leaned in and kissed him. "Can't wait." She got in the car and he closed the door. Then he watched as she pulled out and headed for the road. When he turned back to his own car, he got in and started thinking about where they should go and plan out his rationale for staying overnight.

* * *

The next evening they headed out in the van, with the hair and makeup folks, down to the bowling alley in Donelson, where they would be filming a date night for Deacon and Rayna. They had both interior and exterior scenes at the bowling alley and then street scenes as well. She leaned in. "Do you really think Deacon and Rayna would bowl?" she asked.

He shrugged and smiled. "I thought Rayna was this down to earth girl, always trying to live this normal life. Plus back when they were together before they probably didn't have two nickels to rub together, so I could see them bowling."

She bumped his shoulder with hers. "I don't know. I mean, Rayna's the queen of country music and a label head."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying Rayna Jaymes is too good to bowl?" He smirked.

She laughed and shook her head. "No, that's not what I'm saying. It just seems like it wouldn't be her thing."

"Don't I remember Rayna and Luke bowling?"

"Oh, God." She rolled her eyes. "I had gotten the memory of _that_ out of my head and now you have to go and bring it back."

He laughed and she joined in. "I think Rayna Jaymes is secretly a world class bowler, actually."

She laughed again. "Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

* * *

They were waiting to film the scene inside the bowling alley and stood off to the side. He really had no idea how long they would be filming, but he'd told Patty it would be late and that he had an early call the next day. He and Connie were filming the next day as well, but it was mid-morning. She looked back over her shoulder and up at him. "We set?" she whispered. He nodded.

* * *

The scene, while it sounded simple, turned out to be more complex in reality. There were close up cameras, as well as cameras easily fifty feet away from them. It was dark and their clothes were dark, so they blended into the back wall of the bowling alley. They stood there as the cameras were set up around them. Most of the light would come from a solitary light on the back of the building, with some light coming from the window at the front of the building, which would give the scene enough light to film. They had stood there for quite a while as the camera and lighting crew figured out where the cameras would be and if any ambient light would be needed.

"Okay Connie, Chip, I think we've got it," called out the director. "Let's give it a go."

On the third take, as Chip leaned into Connie as she leaned against the wall, the long camera was on them. It was a make out scene for the two of them. It was an awkward scene to shoot, as they had done the two close up shots first, then started the one shot from farther away. Connie looked at him and sighed. "Let's make this one good," she said. "It needs to really look real."

"Action!"

This part of the scene lasted no more than five seconds. Almost as soon as her lips were on his, he was startled to feel her tongue. He unconsciously pressed up against her, returning the kiss. When the director called cut, he stepped back and raised his eyebrow at her and grinned. She laughed softly and patted his chest right by his shoulder. "That good for you?" she whispered. He just chuckled as they waited for the director to let them know they were good.

It was the last thing they were filming and it made him all the more ready to get to the hotel.

* * *

He checked in and rode the elevator up to the room. It was past eleven and he was tired. He dropped his bag by the bed and sat down, pulling out his phone. He texted her that he was there and then waited. After a few minutes, he got up from the bed and started to pace. He stood by the window, looking out across the parking lot, watching the cars come in. He saw a car drive in and then watched the person walk across the parking lot. He couldn't tell if it was her, but he pulled his phone back out and waited. Several more minutes went by and he started to worry.

He was about to call her when his phone buzzed. It was her. "Hey."

"Hey, sorry," she said. "I didn't realize most of the good parking here was for guests only. Those with reservations, anyway." She laughed a little. "So I had to park around the side where the meeting rooms are. So where are you?"

He felt a sense of relief. Not that he thought she wouldn't show, but it was dark and late and there was no telling what could happen. "1016," he said. "I'll be waiting." He walked over towards the door.

"Okay. See you in a minute." She disconnected.

It wasn't long then before he heard the knock on the door and he opened it almost before she stopped knocking. She looked a little startled and then she smiled. He reached for her hand and pulled her into the room. She dropped her bag and purse just as he swept her up in his arms and kissed her, twirling her around before setting her down. She laughed. "Wow! That was quite the greeting," she said, smiling happily.

He kissed her again. "I've missed you," he said.

She put her arms around his neck. "You just saw me," she said, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

He made a face. "You know what I mean. I've missed getting you like this."

She smiled. "I _do_ know. I feel the same. It feels like it's been a while."

Truthfully they had both been busy – especially her – and there had not been much time to just be alone together. He smirked. "I could probably tell you almost to the hour how long it's been, but that would just make me seem like a weirdo."

She laughed. "Knowing you could actually _do_ it makes you seem like a weirdo, sweetheart," she said. She slid her hands to his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over his scruff. "But I think it's sweet anyway. I don't know one single woman who wouldn't want to know how much she's been missed." She smiled. "I'm ready to stop _talking_ about it, though, and start _doing_ something about it. What about you?"

He kissed her on her neck, right below her ear. "I think you better start taking your clothes off," he growled into her ear.

She giggled and then did exactly as he suggested. He wasn't very far behind her.

* * *

He balanced himself with his elbows as he hovered over her. Moonlight was flooding the room and it gave her an otherworldly look. Her eyes looked black as night and her skin seemed to glow. He was deep inside her. She bent her legs, sliding her feet up to his hips, and letting her knees fall farther open. She arched her back and he pushed in a little more, closing his eyes for a second as he let himself just feel how tight she was around him, how very warm and wet she was. She rocked against him, but he held himself still as he lowered his chest a bit so he could feel her nipples brush against him. He groaned as he felt how tight and hard they were. He couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful and the most sexy woman he'd ever known.

She slid her hands down to his ass, pressing herself against him and rocking her hips again. Again he thought how lucky he was that the woman he was with was Connie Britton. She was the most perfect woman on the planet, he thought, and right then he was making love to her, feeling her soft skin against his own, feeling her hands touch him in ways that drove him crazy. He started to move inside her, not wanting to let any more time go by without satisfying her.

"Oh, my God," she whispered, her eyes closing as she lifted her back off the bed, moving her hips in rhythm with him.

"Eyes on me, Connie," he whispered back and she looked up at him. "I love being inside you."

She put one hand on his neck, letting her fingers dance over his skin. "I love it too," she said, her voice so soft he almost couldn't hear her. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too."

"Oh, God, Chip," she moaned and then he could feel her grip him tightly as her orgasm started to wash over her. She ground her pelvis into him as she started to make little noises that told him she was on the edge. Then she suddenly bucked up against him, calling out, "Oh God, oh God, oh God!" He pushed in harder and then felt himself spasm as he hit her like a jackhammer. Then with one final push, he was spent, falling against her, resting his head on her shoulder.

He seriously felt like he'd seen fireworks and he was struggling to catch his breath as he felt her grip him tightly inside her. Then, although he'd promised her they wouldn't focus on the negative, he couldn't help but think about the fact that she would be leaving him soon and that it might be a very long time before he could hold her like this, feel so connected to her. He felt tears spring up in his eyes and he blinked rapidly, trying to hold them in.

"Chip?" He heard her voice, sounding concerned. "Are you okay?"

He nodded against her shoulder. "Mm hm."

She rolled out from underneath him, forcing him onto his side. She was facing him, her hand gripping his shoulder. "No, you're not," she said. He felt her thumb brush the skin under his eye. "What is it?" Her voice was soft, compassionate, worried.

He brushed her hand away and rubbed his eyes. Then he tried to smile and let out a little laugh. "I know I'm supposed to be strong, not focus on worst case scenarios, and all that, but" – he looked up towards the ceiling – "I just think about not touching you, not kissing you, not making love to you…."

She pressed her fingers against his lips. "It's okay," she said soothingly. "I'll miss all that too. I'm just gonna focus on the endgame, on the gold at the end of the rainbow." She gave him an encouraging smile. She slid over a little closer. "I didn't mean you couldn't feel any of these things. I think we both will. It's gonna be hard and painful. But we need to believe in what we feel for each other. I think _that's_ what's gonna get us through this."

He looked at her as he tried getting his emotions under control. Then he reached out and pulled her close, letting her snuggle against his chest, kissing her on the top of her head. He breathed in deeply. He was afraid that if he tried to say anything, he would break down. He wanted her to know he could do this, that she could count on him. It wasn't even that he didn't trust what they had, but he didn't know what he'd do until he could be with her again.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, the room was bright with sunlight. At some point during the night, Connie had turned onto her side, tucking into him, and he had his arm around her. He kissed her shoulder and she made a noise. He kissed her there again. "You were a naughty girl last night," he whispered in her ear, his voice groggy with sleep.

She chuckled. "Well, you were the one who said we needed to make it real."

He laughed then. "That was _you_ , not me."

She shrugged. "Oh well, it was still a good idea, wasn't it?"

He slid his arm under the sheet and pulled her closer. "Mm hm." He let his hand glide up to her breast and he dragged his fingers lightly over her skin. She made a contented noise and pressed back against him. He made lazy circles around her breast until he got to her nipple. She caught her breath as she waited. He smiled to himself. "I think I'll go a different way," he murmured into her ear, as he nudged her legs apart with his knee, then sliding his leg between hers.

"I think I would like that," she said softly.

"I thought so," he said. He flattened his hand over her abdomen and then let his fingers graze her between her legs. She let out a low moan and arched her back, pressing her ass hard into him. He did nothing more than let his fingers run over her, feeling how wet and warm she was. She pressed the back of his hand, but he just splayed his fingers.

"Chip," she groaned. In response, he moved his hand up over her hip and down to the back of her leg, again just tantalizing her.

He leaned into her ear. "What do you want me to do, Connie?"

She was rocking her hips back and forth. "I want you inside me," she murmured. "Now!"

He shifted himself slightly, then said "You do?"

"Yes!" her voice was thick with her need.

He grabbed her thigh, sliding her leg back over his. He thrust himself inside her, pushing all the way in in one smooth move. "Like that?"

"Yes." The word lingered in the air and he smiled.

"Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets," he whispered in her ear and he made love to her relentlessly until she cried out with her release and, mere seconds later, he followed behind. After they had caught their breath, he slid his arms around her and held her tight. She moved her hand and laid it on his opposite shoulder. They laid there, not speaking, just being together. Then she sighed deeply. "What is it, baby?" he asked.

She didn't say anything right away. Then she ran her hand up and down his arm. "I dream of the day when we can do this whenever we want. Not just the making love part, but the getting up together and going to bed together part. All of the things we don't get to do often enough, or even at all."

He held her a little tighter. "I dream about it too." He kissed her cheek. "I promise we'll make it happen one day. Not so long from now."

She let her fingers thread through his and kissed the back of his hand, sighing again. This time, however, the sigh sounded like a contented sigh, and he smiled.


	19. Chapter 19

He'd been looking forward to filming this scene all week. He knew it would end up being one of his favorite scenes in the entire show. It wasn't surprising that it was a Deacon and Rayna scene. It also wouldn't have mattered if he and Connie hadn't been together. She was such a phenomenal actress and he always willingly admitted she made him better. That they fit together seamlessly was in large part due to how they felt about each other, but it was also because she elevated his game. The scene was just such a beautiful one, all about love and coming back together.

They were eating lunch together in craft services. They would be filming the scene later that afternoon, plus a scene that preceded it. She was nibbling on some fruit. "Are you looking forward to this as much as I am?" she asked.

He nodded and smiled. He finished chewing the bite of sandwich in his mouth and swallowed. "Yes. I think it's gonna be one of those that I file away in my memory as one of my favorites."

She looked surprised. "You have favorite scenes?" she asked.

"I do." He smirked. "They all have you in them."

She smiled a little demurely and blushed. "Which ones?"

"Well, the elevator kiss and the kiss on the porch, for obvious reasons." She laughed. "The cabin scene, when Deacon gave in to Rayna." She smiled and winked. "The wedding."

She shook her finger at him. "They all include kissing."

He raised his eyebrows. "Of course. What about you? Do you have favorite scenes?"

She looked thoughtful. "Not really favorites, but the ones that really get into the essence of who they are. They also seem to be some of the most dramatic, but in a well thought out way, kind of showing the complexity of the relationships. So, I liked the scene where Deacon confronts Rayna about Maddie. I thought you played it absolutely perfectly. The hurt, the feeling of being betrayed. And then Rayna's reaction to her worst nightmare coming true. Now, I will also say I wasn't a fan of Rayna having Deacon's baby and hiding it from him all those years. I think I would have preferred what was originally planned."

He frowned, not remembering. "What was that?"

"Oh, you know. The second daughter was supposed to be younger. I can't remember any more if Daphne was going to be the older girl or still the younger. But the girls would obviously have been Rayna and Teddy's. So no Deacon love child. When they decided on Lennon instead, they had to come up with a different story." She tapped the table. "But I _do_ think the scene were doing today is one of the most well-written for them." She sighed. "It does make me wish we could have had this long ago."

He glanced at the clock. "Well, looks like it's time to get ready." He stood and picked up his plate. "Can I walk you?"

She smiled as she stood up. "I would love that." She walked around the table and he took her plate. "Let's go, babe," she said, with a cheeky grin.

* * *

He walked slowly to the music room set. He stood at the open French doors that led into the room. A feeling of immense sadness washed over him as he looked around the set. One of the things he'd always appreciated about the show was the great attention to detail in designing all the sets. Particularly those that were used in conjunction with music. Everything about the way each set looked was exactly right. He often thought it was a function of filming in Nashville, that these people knew how to get it right.

He took a couple steps in and looked at all the Rayna Jaymes album covers. The details were incredible. They were framed, with little tags that identified things like gold records or triple platinum. There were various perfect replicas of music awards around the room. A well-used piano was against one wall and guitars placed around the room in stands. Guitars he sometimes played, not only for the show but elsewhere. The table in front of the couch looked exactly like a writer's table, with pencils and pads and guitar picks scattered about. The back of the set, across from where he stood, looked exactly like an in home studio a major country artist might have, with mics, recording rooms, a sound mixer.

He let his eyes drift over to the mural on the wall, a full musical score. It was large and drew your eyes to it. Suddenly he had a lump in his throat. He tried to breathe in and out slowly, forcing his heartrate to slow and to keep tears at bay. _Three episodes. It's all we have. And it's gone by too fast._ There would be a handful of other scenes they would shoot in early January, along with her vocals for two songs that would be from the duet album, scenes that would be part of an episode after Rayna died. He only knew that part because she had told him.

 _He frowned at her. "Why does everyone keep saying you're here for ten episodes? Based on what I know, it's nine." They were sitting in her trailer before they were filming that day._

 _She had looked down at her lap. "Technically it's ten," she said. She looked back at him. "The way Marshall and Callie envision it, I guess it sort of coincides with after the, well, you know. Like some old video or something. And I've got those two songs. Not sure how they're using that yet, but I'll be filmed in the studio. I don't know what else. But it seems like I'll be there, but I won't."_

" _So you'll be there, but we won't have any scenes together?" he grumbled._

 _She sighed. "I don't know, Chip. I don't know how far along they are with scripts, so I don't know." She put her hand on his arm. "Please don't…."_

 _He got up and angrily walked away from her. "Please don't patronize me, Connie," he said, hearing the anger in his voice._

" _I'm not doing that," she said. He could hear the irritation in her voice, her annoyance with him not being able to let it go._

 _He hadn't turned back to look at her. "I guess I'm still not at the place where I can act like none of this is happening," he said, knowing he sounded petulant. "I gotta get some air." He had walked out of the trailer, slamming the door behind him. He stalked across the parking lot towards the production studio, knowing he was being a giant ass, but not really sure how to not let it bubble up. It was killing him and he didn't know how to channel that in a more productive way._

He was still struggling with that. He felt like if he could put everything he was feeling into some sort of creative outlet, like a song, maybe he could work it out that way. He'd written the song he'd hoped the show would use during Rayna's funeral, but they said it wouldn't really work with what they had in mind. He'd been disappointed, and he knew it wasn't personal. But trying to touch on the range of emotions he had about Connie leaving, versus Rayna, were actually so much more complex. Deacon's love for Rayna, while all tangled up in hurt and pain and struggle, was simple. He loved her, he'd lost her when he couldn't control his demons, he'd loved her without her reciprocating, and in the end he finally got what he'd always wanted, going back to when they met. His and Connie's love was more complex, more layered, more…something. His situation, as well as the effort they had to put into being discreet, had periodically popped up as stress and strain. That they were here, five years in, and still committed to each other sometimes felt like a miracle.

He breathed in deeply and thought about how the shooting would go. They would film the long scene first, where Rayna came into the music room and they laid together on the couch, then went through the songwriting process to come up with 'My Favorite Hurricane'. It was an interesting sequence, as they would be working through a scene with disjointed connections which would be further edited to give the appearance of the passage of time. He would be actually singing without backup recording in the scene, something that didn't often happen. It was all very organic and he really thought it would come together well.

He'd brought his script with him and sat down on the couch to look over his part. There were instructions on some things the writers wanted to see in terms of body language and proximity and that kind of thing. He'd jotted down additional notes from conversations he and Connie had had about what it should look like, how they thought the characters would engage with each other. He smiled a little sadly as he thought about how they felt they knew Deacon and Rayna and their mannerisms, how they would interact, better than anyone. It was the result of five years of talking backstory and using their deep understanding of how they believed their characters would behave. They both had been unhappy with inconsistencies in telling their story. It was little things, like how they met, how old they were, whether Rayna had lived with Deacon in the East Nashville bungalow. It was frustrating, but it was easier to just go through it.

He looked back at the scene again from the top and read her parts as well. Then he got to the one line that jacked him up, every time. _All I know is I'm here, right now, and I'm not going anywhere ever._ He could feel tears in his eyes and he breathed in sharply, willing the tears to go away. It was hard to think about. First of all, the idea that her character would be gone in just a few episodes, not knowing at that moment, that what she'd said would not be their story after all. And, although he got a little more of a reprieve than his character did, Connie would be gone too eventually. His heart was heavy. He put his hands together and, his elbows on his knees, he held them in front of his mouth, blinking hard and breathing in and out slowly.

He was startled when he felt someone sit down next to him and he looked over and saw her. He was surprised he hadn't picked her up in his peripheral vision or heard her footsteps, but he realized he'd been focused intently on keeping himself under control. She slipped her hand under his arm and leaned against his shoulder. "I know what you're thinking," she said.

He turned slightly and she sat up. Her eyes were filled with both sadness and compassion. "How would you know that?" he asked, sure that, in fact, she _did_ know. They both knew each other so well now.

"You're thinking that our journeys are so similar. That Deacon loses Rayna and then you lose me. Except it's not totally the same, Chip," she said.

He smiled sadly. "Yep, you're right. About both. He loses her forever, after she tells him she'll be there forever. Our story _is_ different, _will_ be different."

She nodded. "It makes me sad too, you know."

"Does it?"

She frowned slightly. "Yes, of course. It's made me question things. Decisions I've made. But I remind myself that I need this, creatively. And that I believe in you and me. We're stronger than this. We won't let it tear us apart."

He nodded, although he worried about himself, didn't want to disappoint her. He wished he could hug her, but that would have to wait. For now they would do the scene and he would be a hundred percent in it, just like he knew she would. The parallels would just make things closer to the heart. But they also had talked about the chance to show their feelings through their characters. To touch each other, to hold each other, to have fun together, and to love each other.

She looked at him, turning her lips up into a smile. "Let's have fun with this," she said. "Let's just enjoy it and the chance to have all of this."

She looked so hopeful and he smiled back at her. He couldn't help but think she looked like the Connie he loved best. Very casual, with her jeans and sweater. Minimal makeup that would make Rayna look like she wasn't wearing any. Her hair loose and not overly done. This was _his_ Connie, the woman he'd fallen in love with, the woman who filled up his soul. He nodded. "Yeah, let's do that," he said.

* * *

The emotion felt heavy in the air around them as they did the scene. He wasn't sure what she was feeling, but he was feeling like he almost couldn't breathe. It was a relatively simple scene, but there was just so much irony in it. Still it had been amazing, even while it also felt bittersweet. He managed to get through the line that nearly undid him, concentrating on what he was going to say and the fact that they were all wrapped up in each other on that couch. When he thought about it later, it was the kind of thing he hoped they'd have a lot of one day – time together to just fall into each other, quiet time when they could be grateful that everything had worked out the way it was supposed to.

When they finished up the scene where they were on the opposite sides of the door, a scene with no dialog at all, they were both introspective as they left the sound stage. She touched his arm gently and he looked at her. He couldn't really tell what she was thinking. "Come see me before you go," she said softly. He nodded. She gave him a sad smile, then headed for wardrobe.

* * *

When he got to her trailer, she practically fell into his arms. She didn't cry, but the look on her face made him want to. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder and he just held her, smoothing her hair over and over. Finally she took a deep cleansing breath and stepped back, looking up at him. "Well, that felt really intense," she said. "Emotional. In a way I wasn't expecting."

He gave her a wry smile. "Kinda hits you over the head, right?"

She smiled sadly and nodded. "Or a punch in the gut."

She was definitely in a funk, which wasn't typically like her, so he decided he needed to try to get her out of it. To use a term Deacon had used early in the season – they didn't need to _wallow_ in it. It was his turn to be the stronger one. He took her hand and led her to the bench, sitting down and pulling her down with him. He put his arm around her shoulder and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. He breathed in. "So when did you decide to become an actress?" he asked.

She chuckled for a second, then turned her face to look at him, settling back against his side. "Gosh, probably all the way back to when I was a kid. My sister and I used to put on plays for my parents. Things we'd make up. We'd come up with a title and then make up something. I suppose they were really like skits. And sometime a cousin would join in with us. I got bitten by the bug, I guess you could say." She looked back at him. "What about you?"

He grinned. "I really did fall into it. I tried out for the play about Buddy Holly and kind of surprised myself when I got the part. Lived in the UK for a while and then did the UK version of Whose Line, but _Buddy_ was really what kind of sparked the interest for me. Plus it was that magical mix of music and acting."

She laughed. "Like an early Deacon."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." He shrugged. "Acting wasn't really what I'd intended at first, but it turns out writing music and performing is even tougher to navigate. I went out to California, thinking I would write songs or something, but I saw an audition for something, thought it looked interesting and showed up."

"What was it?" She let go of his hand and turned to face him, drawing one leg up underneath her.

He thought about that. "I don't even remember." He smiled. "I didn't get it, which is probably why I don't remember, but that happened more often than it didn't."

She nodded thoughtfully. "It is tough, that's for sure."

He gave her a look. "I had better success with acting, so I stuck with it, writing on the side." He smiled. "I haven't seen _you_ trolling for work. And I certainly knew who you were."

She blushed a little. "Well, I've had some good luck. Plus I still look young for my age." She flipped her hair and laughed. She smiled, the smile that told him she had eyes only for him. "You know, I had never even heard of you before we started the show."

He grinned. "Not surprising. I had lots of guest roles, some longer than others, but I was never the star."

She bit her lip as she smiled and blushed a little. "I looked you up, when Callie told me you were playing Deacon, and I thought you looked so young. Not at all like I thought Deacon would look and certainly not the broody, complicated man Rayna Jaymes was in love with."

He laughed and ran a hand over his cheek. "Yeah, clean shaven isn't exactly Deacon worthy. When Callie told me how she saw Deacon, I could picture him in my mind." She looked intrigued, so he continued. "I had built up this whole story of who he was. I knew he was a recovering alcoholic, a superstar guitar player – which I was not – and that quiet, brooding kinda guy, standing a little in the shadows. In _her_ shadow. So to me, that meant this unshaven look" – he ran his hand over his cheek again – "and always wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, and boots. And then I lost ten pounds, just because I thought it made the look."

She grinned as she nodded. "Well, you sure did nail it, I have to say. When you walked in for the table read, you were just what I thought Deacon looked like. But, you know, I wasn't sure how we would mesh, since we hadn't gotten to spend any time together. That was something that really helped me with Kyle and Dylan, especially Kyle, to do all that exploring of the characters ahead of time." She shifted back and forth, laughing a little. "But we made up for it, I guess. And it didn't hurt that I felt that attraction to you right away."

He breathed in slowly. "Do you have anything lined up yet?"

She shook her head. "Except for that teeny tiny role" – she held her thumb and index finger close together – "I had in the Professor Marston movie, no. You know, I really do want to take a break, so I think it's good that I'm staying here until Yoby's school year ends. After the holidays I'll start looking at scripts and working through some development ideas, but mostly I want to just hang out with my kid and take a vacation or two, spend time with friends. Kind of wrap up things here." He nodded, feeling like his throat was closing in. She leaned forward and patted his knee. "And getting to spend some time with you, of course." Then she waved her hands in front of her eyes. "Nothing maudlin, okay?" She smiled.

He smiled back. "That's right." He tried to think of some way to lighten the mood back up. "So, did you ever watch anything I did? You know, back when you'd never heard of me and thought I couldn't possibly be Deacon?"

She grinned and wrinkled her nose. "Well, I did, actually. Callie told me some of the things you'd been in, so, let's see…." She looked up towards the ceiling thoughtfully, touching her index finger to her chin. Then she looked back at him. "Okay, here's one. I saw you in 'The Office'." She laughed. "You were all clean shaven and cute but that guy was _not_ Deacon." She laughed again, that husky, full on laugh that she had. "I mean, he was funny but not Deacon."

He grinned a little sheepishly. "That is very true."

"Seems like there was something else, but I can't recall. But then when I saw you here, I could not believe you were that guy." She shook her head. "I mean, you didn't even look like the same person."

He laughed. "It took a lot of work to go from being an 'aw, shucks' kinda guy to being" – he lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow – "a sex symbol."

She laughed out loud, putting her hands on his knees. "Well, my love, you kind of _are_ a sex symbol. At least to the army of women who follow you. I'm starting to wonder if I should be worried."

He shook his head. "No need for that," he said. "Not one of 'em holds a candle to you." He shrugged. "I appreciate having loyal fans though. It's nice to have people like what you do."

She smiled. "Well, and you're just such a nice guy. I'm too, well, too private for that. Maybe it's to my detriment, but I'm just not comfortable in those situations."

"Everyone's different. No right or wrong." He glanced at his phone then. "We need to get going so we can go to bed." He grinned. They had a scene in bed, where Rayna was trying to talk to Deacon, but he just fell back asleep. One of those normal bedtime scenarios a normal married couple would have. Except that _they_ would be in bed together.

She pointed a finger at him. "Yes, we do. And you need to listen to me."

He pulled her up by the hand and into his arms for a kiss. When they stepped away from each other, she looked up at him and he felt like she was searching his face for something, although he wasn't sure what it was. He raised an eyebrow, but she just smiled, resting her palm against his cheek. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then he left her trailer, knowing that in about ten minutes, she would do the same.

* * *

They were laying in the bed in Rayna's bedroom, on their backs, waiting for the lighting guys to get the light just right. It was supposed to be three in the morning, so it would be dark in the bedroom, but, of course, there had to be some light for the scene. He had his hands behind his head. She turned her head towards him. "This reminds me, in a lot of ways, about scenes Kyle and I did," she said.

He looked at her and smiled. "I'm assuming that's a good thing," he responded.

She smiled and nodded. "I have to admit that's my high water mark in terms of a great marriage portrayal. And we're doing so much better on that front this season. This is really how I see them, now that Deacon's sober. He's still the guy she fell in love with, but better."

He grinned. "Well, that's good to know." He felt her fingers trail along the side of his leg and he looked at her with a smirk on his face. "That feels nice," he whispered.

She laughed a little. "I'm getting too brazen, I think."

"Not brazen enough." He chuckled a little. "You're gonna have to deliver on that, you know."

She smiled in that teasing way she had. "It would be my pleasure," she murmured.

"We're ready," called out one of the production assistants. They looked at each other, wordlessly sharing a longing look, as they darkened the lights to make it appear it was the middle of the night.

He rolled away from her, his left arm under his head, and closed his eyes. She waited until the director called out action, and then pulled her arms out from under the covers and huffed. After a few seconds she reached over and tapped him on the back. "Deacon, are you awake?" she asked.

When she rolled over and lounged against his side, he had to stay focused as she let her foot slide a little ways down the back of his leg. _Damn, she's trying to get me in trouble._ He knew for sure this would be one of those days he was going to be late getting home. She needed his attention and he certainly needed to give it to her.

* * *

In the end, though, they just sat together. She leaned her body against his. He put one arm around her waist and took her other hand in his. They were quiet for a long time. Occasionally he would kiss her on top of her head and then she would snuggle a little closer. They had two more episodes. They had a few more scenes to film for this episode, but then he knew the time would fly by. He wasn't ready, wasn't sure how he'd handle it. He thought maybe it was getting to her too.

He sighed deeply and she raised up her other hand to lay it against his cheek. She turned her head as she leaned against his chest. Then she lifted his hand to her lips and he pressed his cheek against her hair. "I love you, Chip," she said softly, so quiet he almost couldn't hear her.

"I love you too, Connie," he said and then swallowed over the lump in his throat, holding her closer.

* * *

 _A/N: So we're getting closer to Connie leaving the show. I do have more story to tell and there is very definitely an endgame. Looking forward to sharing it._


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: I really meant to post this sooner. I had it all written. Then I went back to look it over and decided to change a whole plotline. But here it is! Thanks for reading and, most of all, for reviewing.**_

He was sitting up in the bed, one knee drawn up, where he was balancing his script. Every time he looked at it, he felt unsettled, the lump in his gut just feeling like it was getting bigger. His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow. He set the script aside and leaned back, closing his eyes and putting his hands on his head.

"You don't look so good."

He opened his eyes and dropped his head. Connie stood at the foot of the bed, wearing some incredibly sexy sweater that had dropped down off one shoulder and was long enough to hit her at about mid-thigh. Her hair was messy around her face and she had her glasses on. She also had two mugs of coffee in her hands. He smiled. "I was just waiting for some of that good, hot coffee," he said.

She laughed. "Well, it _is_ hot, but good is relative," she said. She walked around to his side of the bed and sat on the edge, facing towards him. She handed him a mug, then put both hands around her mug and took a sip. Then she looked back at him. "So, shall we walk through it together?"

He sighed, then took a sip of his coffee. He lowered his arms, the mug still in his hands. "Do we have to?" he asked. Normally he enjoyed running lines with her, working through the subtleties of a scene. If there were intimate moments or moments that showed off how they interacted with each other, they often came up with a way to inject some part of themselves into it. But he just wasn't up for it this time.

She breathed out, her shoulders slumping a bit. "Please, sweetheart," she said, putting her hand on his arm, her eyes pleading with him. "It's a great scene and I want to be sure we get it right. Because it's really the last…well, you know."

He set the mug on the bedside table and rubbed his mouth with one hand. He _did_ know. It was the last episode they would have that was at all playful and loving and showcased Deacon and Rayna as a couple, and she particularly wanted them to focus on the last scene they would have together in the episode. "I'm not sure I can." They were just days away, really, from wrapping up her story. It had felt like they were on a runaway train and now it was careening off the tracks. As they had read through the script during the table read, he felt such a sense of impending doom. Even now, he felt like he couldn't catch his breath.

She frowned just slightly. "Yes, you can. We've done it pretty much from the beginning. I want this scene to really encompass who Rayna and Deacon are, how much they truly love each other." He gave her a look and she tried giving him a pleading smile. "Please. I'll make it worth your while." She put her hand on his leg and slid it up, then put it over his crotch. He cleared his throat, feeling himself responding to her touch. She left her hand there, a catlike smile on her face, until he was nearly fully aroused. Then she moved her hand away as he groaned. "See, I knew you'd do it," she said. She stood up, then leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his lips while lightly laying her hand back where it had been.

"Jesus, Connie," he whispered. She just smiled as she walked slowly around to the other side of the bed, his eyes following her. He choked on a groan. He was so hard, watching her, that it hurt. She could do that so effortlessly. He watched her set down her coffee mug, then make a great show out of sitting on the edge of the bed and then sliding in, showing off her long, gorgeous legs. As she pulled the sheet up to her waist, he rolled slightly towards her. She smiled at him. He surprised her then by moving closer to her and sliding his hands up under her sweater. She widened her eyes as his hands reached just above her waist. "That was a risky game you just played, baby," he murmured, his voice tight as he sought to control himself.

He started tickling her and she squealed with laughter, twisting to try and get away from his hands. "Oh my God, Chip, stop!" she cried, still laughing uncontrollably.

He rolled almost completely on top of her, letting her feel how much he wanted her. She bit down on her lip and he gave her a sly smile. "You _are_ going to make it worth my while," he said, letting a smile cross his face, as he slipped her glasses off and put them on the table beside her. "But now. And then again later." She blushed a little, then moaned, as he settled over her. He couldn't last another second, so he pushed into her, closing his eyes as he concentrated on how it felt to be sliding inside her, feeling how wet she was and luxuriating in all that slick warmth.

"Eyes on me, Chip," she whispered breathily and he opened them to look at her, smiling at her use of his line. She drew her knees up, letting him continue to press in. When he was fully and completely inside her, he sighed. Her sweater had moved up a little, so that he could feel the silky skin of her lower abdomen against him and then the cozy feel of the very soft sweater. She had her hands on his shoulders as he balanced himself above her with his hands. He looked at her with a question in his eyes. She took a quick breath and shifted a tiny bit. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "Fuck me, Chip," she whispered.

As close as he'd been to the edge, he was glad he was able to give her what she wanted. He alternated between quick, hard thrusts and languid strokes that made her cry out softly. He was able to wait for her to be ready, although he still came first, crying out, "Oh my fucking God!" as he gave one last hard push. As he felt himself finally empty himself inside her, he could feel her start to pulse around him, making little noises as she did. When she finally took a deep, shuddering breath, he gently lowered himself and kissed her on the forehead. She put her hands on his neck and let her fingers rake the hair at the nape of his neck, making a satisfied sound.

"I forgive you," she said softly.

He chuckled. "Forgive me for what?"

She smiled. "For making me forget what I wanted to do." She raised her head up slightly and kissed him, falling back on the pillow. "But now you're obligated to help me. You realize that, don't you?"

He shook his head a bit ruefully and rolled off of her, lying flat on his back next to her. He was going to make her mad, or at least disappointed. He sighed. "I don't think I can."

She had pushed herself up to a sitting position and reached over and picked up her script and her glasses from the bedside table. She looked over at him, looking disappointed, but in a way that made him realize she understood. "Sit up." He sighed, then slowly did as she asked. She set her script back on the table, as well as her glasses. He swallowed hard, then looked at her. She reached over and squeezed the back of his arm gently. "I'm not going to force you."

He looked at her for a moment, thinking again that, in the end, it wasn't so much that she wanted them to work on how they would play the scene on camera, because of course he would normally do that. But this scene was different. It was the very last happy scene they would have, a scene that was setting up the end and he didn't yet know what that would look like and because he dreaded it. Even if they hadn't had a personal relationship, he would miss her anyway. She was generous with her talent, someone he always enjoyed talking to, and a great friend. That alone would make this hard. He had no idea what was in store for his character either, afterwards. His whole story, for the four and a half years they'd been doing this, had been wrapped up in hers and pulling that rug out from under him left him feeling exposed. But the die had been cast and the end was approaching and he was determined to send her out with the best work he could do.

He wanted to help her, wanted to be a bigger man, didn't want her to think he was being childish. "Baby, I'm sorry…."

She rolled towards him and put two fingers over his lips. "Don't," she said, shaking her head. "You don't ever have to apologize to me for how you feel."

The tears came. He couldn't help it. He reached for her hand. "Don't leave me," he pleaded, choking on the words.

She screwed up her face, like she was going to cry too, then slid over and put her arms around him, pulling him over towards her. She leaned her cheek against his head and ran her hand up and over his shoulder, as though she were soothing him. "It's okay, my love. It's okay." She turned her head and kissed his hair. She moved her hand to cup his cheek. "I don't _want_ to leave you," she whispered.

He sat up then, reaching for her hand, squeezing it gently, then lifted it to his lips. "I feel like I'm disappointing you, by being stubborn about this," he said.

"You aren't." Now it was her turn to lean against him, putting her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder. He sighed, letting himself just enjoy being close. He slid his arm around her, letting his fingers trail up and down her arm. She flattened her palm against his chest, then drawing little circles with her finger. She looked up at him. "I always want you to be honest with me, Chip. About _everything_. The last thing I'd ever want to do is force you to do something you don't want to do. And especially that you might not feel you could really tell me how it makes you feel." She turned then and sat facing him, her legs folded up under her. She gave him a sly smile. "So now we have some time to do some things I think you _will_ want to do."

He smirked at her. "You think so, huh?" He pushed back the sheet, leaning back against the pillows and pulling her over on top of him. She laughed happily and he grinned back at her. "I do believe you just might be right." She straddled him and he put his hand on her waist and, this time, he made sweet love to her, until they were both breathless and deeply satisfied.

* * *

They walked down the stairs together, his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist. When they got to the foyer, they turned and faced each other. He breathed in, then he reached out and ran his hand down her hair. He cleared his throat. "I get it now," he said.

She looked puzzled. "What's that?"

"You know. When you said it was the stalker, but not the stalker." She nodded. He ran his hand down her arm and took her hand. "I don't want to know, until we get the script. I don't think I could…um…you know." It felt like his throat was closing up.

She nodded again, a lot of sad compassion in her eyes. "I _do_ know." She put her hand on his cheek and tried to smile encouragingly. Then she took a deep breath. "I'm gonna miss working with you more than anyone," she said, over a laugh that ended more like a sob. "It's hard to believe that, after all this time, it's almost the end." He could see the tears in her eyes, which made him tear up too. Then she gave him a broad smile, although he could see her lip tremble just a tiny bit, as she tried to be brave about it. "But, you know, we're so much more than that." She took a step closer and put her hands on his waist. "And that's how I know we'll get through it all. Not just the immediate next two episodes, but all of it." She smiled again. "And it's not goodbye yet." She rolled her eyes then. "It's not goodbye at all, actually. I'll never believe that…."

He stopped her with a kiss, cupping her face with his hands, feeling her arms encircle him. He could feel tears slowly trail down from his eyes, but he didn't care. He'd never been one to shy away from emotions and he wasn't going to do it now. This woman meant everything to him and he hated to let her go. Even for a little while. When he finally pulled his lips from hers, she looked up at him and he could see the dampness in her eyes, saw that her lips were a little puffy from the kiss. "God, Connie, I didn't think it would be this hard, hurt this much. I mean, I know you've got some time before you really go, but I'm not even sure I can do this without you."

"Do what? The show?" He nodded. She put her hand on his cheek, letting her thumb wipe at the wetness there. "You can. You _know_ you can." She smiled. "I think you're really the heart of the show anyway."

He frowned, shaking his head. "Nope, you…." She made a shushing noise and put a finger over his lips.

"You _are_ , Chip. You are the very heart of this show. Deacon is the most flawed character, but he's also the bravest and most heroic. He's been at the bottom of a whiskey bottle more times than we can count, but he's pulled himself up and he made himself over and he's proved himself time and again. He's solid. And you are too. You'll do it." She smiled up at him. "And I'll be standing on the sidelines cheering you on."

He frowned. "But I don't want to do it without you," he said.

She nodded slightly. "I know. But you also know you will."

He put his arm around her neck and pulled her in, kissing her on the forehead. Then he let out a shaky laugh. "I guess if you have that much confidence in me…."

She grinned. "I do."

He tried to laugh, looking up at the ceiling. Then he looked back at her. "Then I guess I have to try." She lifted her face and he kissed her.

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I _am_ glad I got to spend some quality time with you today."

"That is definitely something we can agree on." He stepped over to the coatrack and reached for his jacket, sliding it on.

She grabbed his arms. "I know you've got to go, but I really am glad we got this time together."

He nodded. "Me too." He took her in his arms again, holding her close, feeling her lean into him. Then he stepped back and kissed her one more time. "I'll come in early tomorrow, maybe we can run through everything then." She nodded wordlessly. He put his hand on the doorknob and looked at her, then turned to leave. He felt her hand against his back and he hesitated for a second, then let himself out.

* * *

As he drove home, he was glad he hadn't agreed to help her prep. It wasn't an unusual request – they'd done it often – but it would have just been too hard. It had been tough enough to hear it that morning. There had been an oppressive feeling during and after the table read. He had sensed the dread as soon as he'd walked in the room. Everyone had read the script, of course, and now it was clear how things would go. There had been no levity in the room, although Sam, a natural jokester, had tried to lighten the mood. Maisy and Lennon kept looking like they wanted to cry and even Connie had been quiet and reserved. He'd just hated it all.

He had a queasy feeling in his stomach. Even though he'd known she was leaving the show, long before the others did, and even though he'd known how that would happen, albeit without all the details, the reality of it – that it was, in fact, happening, and now knowing more about what would precipitate it – was hitting him harder than even he had expected. His chest felt tight, his mouth was dry, his heart was racing, and he had a lump in his throat. He tried to breath and he struggled. He took a detour then, to a place where he thought he could just let it all go.

* * *

It was a cool, blustery day, so not ideal to be walking along the path to the river. It was a gray day, clouds racing across the sky, which made it feel even chillier. He had on a heavy jacket, but he could still feel the wind seem to get in anyway. He was shivering and his eyes were tearing and he kept rubbing his nose. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he approached the edge of the river. It had been a place of both good times and not-so-good times, although the good more than outweighed the bad. There were happy times, when Connie would bring Yoby and he would bring Blue, and they would splash in the water, feeling like their own family. He remembered laughter and stolen kisses and her not being able to keep her hands off him, even though they weren't completely alone.

It was their place, away from everything and everyone. A place where they didn't have to worry about holding hands or deep, long kisses. Where they could wrap themselves around each other and just relax into the nearness of the other, enjoy the sun on a warm day. They talked about anything and everything – their lives, their dreams, their hopes for the future, for a future with each other. They'd argued here too, about her conflict, about his, about her dating, and, most of all, about her leaving. But mostly he just felt her here more than anywhere else.

Her time in Nashville would be winding down and he dreaded it. Although he would say to anyone that he wanted the show to continue, thought it could, believed it would, the truth was that he didn't think they'd survive this. Connie – and Rayna – were the heart and soul of the show, despite what she said to the contrary. Yes, they would carry on, for however long they were given, but he knew this would rip apart the fans, who were already edgy, considering the rumors. He wasn't sure how he and his cast mates would even go on.

He looked out over the river, hunching his shoulders. The wind gave movement to the water. It looked almost as gray as the clouds, shiny and bright, despite the lack of sun. He could feel the tears on his cheeks, telling himself it was the wind, but he knew that was not true. He could feel his emotions bubbling up again, fast and furious, and he was completely unable to control them. It felt like he was being pushed to the ground, as he suddenly went down on his knees, struggling to breathe. Then he leaned over and put his palms flat on the ground, almost as though he was being forced down, and he cried. Great, heaving, gut-wrenching sobs that made his chest hurt and his head throb, hearing them echo in that space.

* * *

He had no idea how long he had been like that. When he was finally able to breathe deeply, when he finally thought all the tears were gone, when he finally opened his eyes and looked up to the sky, it seemed darker. Not necessarily the clouds, so much, as just the passing of time. He sat back on his heels for a moment, wiping his face, feeling his heart slow down. He reached for his phone to check the time and saw that he had multiple messages, from both Connie and Patty, and realized that he'd never turned the ringer back on. It was close to 4:00 and it would be dark soon. He took a deep breath and headed back up the path.

When he got to his car, he felt calmer. He let himself in, shutting the door, then pulled his phone back out. He texted Patty first. _Sorry, had phone off. Stayed to rehearse, wardrobe. Home soon._ He had not told her exactly when he'd be back, but he was sure she hadn't expected him to be gone all day and, to be honest, neither had he. Connie had called once, then left a text. _Are you okay_? He breathed in, then called her.

"Are you okay? I've been worried about you," she said in a rush of words, with no preamble. "I think I'm just trying to pretend like everything is normal, or I'll just lose it."

He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "I'm okay," he said, even though he appreciated her acknowledgement of his discomfort. "I think it's just really hitting me right now."

He heard her sigh. "I don't want to push."

He nodded. "I know you don't. This is on me, Connie. It's something I've gotta work through." He took a deep breath. "I promise I'll come in early tomorrow. Can you make it? We can run through it then. And I promise I'll be ready."

"Of course. I'll be there." She paused. "I'm glad we had today though."

It had been good to have the time with her, but it had also felt so bittersweet. "Yeah, it was. See you tomorrow." She disconnected and he leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he breathed in deeply and sat up, putting his key in the ignition. He started the car, eased out of the parking area, and headed for the highway.

* * *

He slept fitfully. He finally got out of bed and quietly made his way downstairs. He turned the light on over the stove and then reached for a glass. He walked over to the hutch and poured himself a generous amount of whiskey. He turned out the light and walked out to the study. He sat in one of the comfortable club chairs and got lost in his thoughts. Blue had followed him and slid down onto the floor at his feet.

He'd let Connie talk him into coming by her house after the table read, something that was admittedly not tough to do. They'd half undressed downstairs before she took his hand and pulled him up the stairs. She'd asked him to do the read through with her for their scene the next day and he'd hesitated. He really didn't know why he'd struggled so much with it. It wasn't a heavy scene at all, but he also knew it was going to be the last lighthearted and carefree scene their characters would have. Everything after would be heavy and dark. He sipped at the whiskey as his mind bounced around from her to the scene to being at the river and back to her.

"Are you okay?" He was startled, and looked over to see Patty standing by the door. Her face was in shadows. He didn't hear anger or frustration or irritation in her voice. He wasn't completely sure it was genuine concern but at least it wasn't accusatory. Blue got up and trotted over to her and he could see her rub the dog's head as he wagged his tail.

He sighed. "Just couldn't sleep," he said, taking another sip of his whiskey.

She took a couple steps in and sat down in one of the wing chairs across the room. "You've been tense, on edge. Quiet. We've all noticed." He didn't respond. "When's the last episode?" she asked.

He leaned his head back. He knew what she was asking and he debated answering, but finally said, "The next one."

He heard her sigh. "Well, just be careful what you say, how you react."

He wasn't in the mood for her direction, but he also didn't want to really talk about it. Especially with her. "You don't have to worry," he said.

She stood up. "I hope not." Then she turned and walked out of the room. Blue followed and stood at the door, then turned back and resumed his spot by the chair.

He sat in the dark for a long time, not really knowing what to do, not knowing how he was going to handle all this, still not really understanding how she could leave. How she could leave _him_.

* * *

He drove north towards Nashville, trying to focus his thoughts on the two scenes he had that day. Neither were high drama scenes. In fact, they were some of the least dramatic scenes in the whole episode. He settled first on the scene he'd film with Clare, in Deacon's house. He let his mind walk through the whole scene, from entering the house, talking with Scarlett, walking around to the kitchen and then back out. He enjoyed working with Clare. They'd traveled a lot together, for cast tours as well as a number of performances for just the two of them. He loved her energy plus they had good chemistry, onscreen and off.

His mind kept drifting though. The other scene he was filming was with Connie, in Rayna's kitchen, talking about Daphne's period. He didn't think it would be a stretch for him to act like it was the most uncomfortable conversation Deacon had ever had. It had been similar to when it had happened for his girls. Patty had chattered on and on about it, as he looked around wildly, trying to find somewhere else to be. What he really wasn't looking forward to, though, was seeing Connie. He'd gone over his lines for the scene and, as he drove, tried to think through the sequencing and how it would go.

There was a line in the scene – when Deacon looked at Rayna – where it felt like he unconsciously knew he needed to be intentional about telling her how he felt about her. It was really the most serious line in the whole scene. _Good God, I love you._ There was such an intensity of feeling in that one line, followed by him pushing her towards the bedroom. He couldn't help but think about how, yet again, art was imitating life. Or was it life imitating art? In any case, he decided he would put every bit of what he felt for Connie into that very important line Deacon said to Rayna.

When he finally drove onto the lot, he saw that she was already there. He texted her. _I'm here. You ready?_ He waited. _Yes._ He got out of his car and waited. After a moment, he saw her walk around from behind her trailer and she headed for him. As they walked towards the building, in the dark, he linked his pinky finger with hers.

* * *

It took him more takes than normal to get the scene down, even after they'd gone through it several times on their own. He was tired, he was distracted, and he could see Connie's concern between takes. It was actually a lighthearted scene, ending with the two of them very obviously heading off to the bedroom. The kind of scenes they liked to play. On the final take, when Deacon told Rayna how much he loved her, he hoped she caught the look in his eyes, hoped she knew it was for her too.

As they walked off the set together, she looked at him and frowned. "What's going on?" she asked. "It's not like you to have that much trouble. You had it when we walked through it earlier."

He shrugged. "Just tired, I guess." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her. "Couldn't sleep last night."

She looked concerned. "Why? What's going on?" He looked away. She touched his arm. "Chip, what's going on?"

"I can't talk about it here."

She lowered her voice. "Can you stop by?"

He looked back at her and shook his head. "I've got another scene this afternoon."

"I know. I meant, can you come by my trailer for a minute?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

She looked at him, confusion in her eyes. "Okay, then. I need to go to wardrobe first. I'll let you know when I get there."

They'd just stepped outside. He breathed in. "Okay," he said, then hustled down the steps, leaving her staring after him.

He paced, unable to be still. He couldn't do this. He just hoped she'd understand why. When his phone went off, he practically jumped on it. _I'm here._ He stood looking at his phone for a moment, then headed out the door.

* * *

When she opened the door to his knock, she still looked confused. "Hey," she said, stepping back to let him enter. He brushed past her, but she reached for his arm and stopped him. He turned to look at her. "You're scaring me, Chip," she said. "What's going on? You're distracted and you're sort of brushing me off."

He took a deep breath and just jumped into it. "I'm just not sure how I'm gonna get through this, Connie," he said.

She looked at him and then sighed. "I'm not oblivious, Chip. I'm trying really hard to be sensitive, to not fight with you about this."

Suddenly he felt like a dam was bursting inside him. "God damn it, Connie, don't you get it?" She looked at him with surprise on her face. "It's just thinking about that scene before whatever's gonna happen that's gonna take Rayna away from Deacon. And you away from me. I've been trying to just go with it and trust it, but it's killing me. I don't know what's coming but I don't even know how I'm gonna deal with it."

She just stared at him for a minute, then suddenly burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. He wanted to hold her, but he felt like he couldn't move. She finally moved her hands and looked at him, tears streaking her face. She walked over and sat on the bench. "I know all this has hurt you and I don't want to make it worse. I'm not doing this _to_ you, Chip, or because of you, or to separate myself from you." She looked up at him. "But I'm struggling too. Maybe it doesn't seem like it, but I am. I keep second-guessing myself. Should I have quit? Was it the right thing to do? And now it's too late. They're too far down the path."

He walked over then and sat next to her. "Do you want to stay?"

She took his hand and looked at him sadly. "There's a part of me that does. But in the end, no," she whispered and he felt a little like he'd died inside. "I need to do this. For myself. It's just time." She sighed. "You talk about how you don't know how you'll deal with this. How do you think I feel? I'm shutting the door on this time in my life, I'm uprooting my kid, who's really only ever known this place. I'm leaving the familiar and I don't have anything lined up. Not even the option to come back occasionally. It's scary. But you know what's worse?" He shook his head. The tears started again. "Leaving you behind." Her voice was shaky. "I feel like you think I'm stronger somehow, that I'm going forward all confident and ready. But I'm leaving you behind and it's the thing I'm the most conflicted about." She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself. "I'm leaving you and I don't know if you'll change your mind…about us. Maybe when I'm not here, I don't know, things will change." She shrugged.

He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. That admission had surprised him. "I don't think that can happen," he said quietly.

She shook her head. "You don't know…."

He frowned. "I _do_ know." He put his hand on her face and leaned in, brushing her lips with his. "My feelings won't ever change. I promise you that." He tried smiling at her and was rewarded when she returned the smile, looking a little chastened. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm still gonna hate it. I can't help that." He reached up then and smoothed her hair back. "I know we're gonna finish this together and I want to make that as good as I can. And we'll just figure everything else out after that."

She nodded. "Okay." She slid over closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Can you just hold me for a minute?"

He pulled her close, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. "That I can do, baby. That I can do."


	21. Chapter 21

It was the next to the last day of filming on Connie's next to the last episode. He knew when he went home that night the script for her last episode would be there. He felt sick to his stomach. He'd barely eaten all day. He and Connie had two scenes to do that day and they were working on the last one, a tense scene where the stalker was standing outside Deacon and Rayna's house. It suited him to be working on a scene that included anger and desperation and gave him a reason to raise his voice, letting him have an outlet for his pain. The last time they did the scene, Connie grabbed his arm as if to settle him. It was in the script, but it had felt like it was Connie trying to calm down Chip.

When the scene was finished, he walked off the set and out to his trailer. He shut the door and started to pace, linking his fingers together on top of his head. He wasn't ready to go home, but he had nothing else to do. He wasn't working the next day, so he had no lines to go through. He realized he was still wearing Deacon's clothes and so he changed into his own. He'd drop everything off in wardrobe before he left. He went to the sink and scrubbed the makeup off his face. When he finished, he stood at the sink, his hands on the edge, water dripping from his face. Just as he reached for a towel, he heard knocking on the door. He wiped off his face as he walked to the door. He was surprised to see Connie there.

"Hey," she said. "Can I come in?" He nodded and stepped aside, closing the door behind her.

She walked over to the bench, shrugging off her jacket, and sat. She crossed one leg over the other, bouncing it slightly. He thought she looked tense, distracted, maybe a little bit melancholy. She was looking at her fingers as she picked at the edge of the top she had on. She'd changed into her regular clothes – jeans, a sweater she'd worn before and that he knew felt soft as velvet, and ankle boots. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she had a scarf around her neck. "What's going on?" he asked.

She looked up at him, squinting her eyes just a little. "I was worried about you," she said.

"Me?" he asked, a little surprised.

She nodded. "Yeah. I know this is tough. It's tough for both of us, but I think it's harder for you." She held her hand up. "And not because of anything other than, when this is all said and done, you're the one who gets left. Both you and Deacon." She gave him the ghost of a smile. "And you're both pretty emotional men. Which is a rare find, I will tell you." She laughed a little, a sad laugh. "I love that you _feel_ things, Chip. I really do. Let's me know it's okay for me to feel things too. That you won't think I'm being a baby or being silly. That I'm not just some weepy, emotional woman. I feel validated, you know?"

He shoved his hands in his pocket and exhaled. "I've never thought you were a weepy, emotional woman," he said, letting his lips turn up slightly.

She patted the seat next to her. "Will you come sit with me, please?"

He hesitated for just a second, then sat next to her. He put his arm around her as she tucked into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. He let his fingers drift down the arm of her sweater, feeling the cozy softness. He turned his head slightly and kissed her on her forehead. "I don't want you to worry, about me, or anything else," he said.

She smoothed her hand down his leg. "That's what we do for each other, though, my love. I know you're gonna go home and you'll read that script and you'll want to talk about it, but you can't." She sat up and looked at him intently. "Nobody leaves." She tapped her chest. "Not in our hearts." She reached out and tapped his chest over his heart.

He looked at her, feeling such a mix of emotions, some of which he couldn't even name. But she was here, letting him know she understood and telling him they would be strong for each other. He sat up and let his fingers thread her hair on both sides of her face, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. "I don't want to go home," he said.

She rubbed his chest with her hand. "I know. But not facing it doesn't make it go away." She ran a finger down his jawline. "Just remember it's gonna be hard for all of us. You're not in this by yourself."

He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. He tried to smile. "You're gonna have to help me get through it then," he said.

She smiled. "Don't worry. I will."

* * *

He dreaded getting home. He actually drove under the speed limit, something totally not like him. He knew that manila envelope would be there, on the kitchen counter, where Patty always put it when it came. He wondered if she'd opened it. She would do that sometimes. Usually it wasn't a big deal, but this time he hoped she did not. He wanted to see it first, read it alone, and let it sink in.

Her SUV wasn't in the garage when he got home, but when he walked into the kitchen he spotted the envelope. He walked over and saw it was still unopened. He stood at the counter, his hands flat on either side of it, as though if he touched it, it might scorch his hands. But finally he picked it up and walked into the study, Blue following behind him. He sat in his favorite club chair, one he'd had for probably twenty years. It was well broken in and comfortable, the place where he normally read the script for the first time.

He held the envelope in his hands, then set it aside, getting up and shutting the doors. He didn't want to be interrupted. When he sat back down, he picked it up. He ran his tongue around his lips, breathing in deeply. He could feel his heart beating hard. He breathed in one more time, then opened the envelope, pulling out the script. The title was "If Tomorrow Never Comes" and he felt tears in his eyes. Then he breathed out and opened it up.

He started with the opening scene – Rayna being brought into the hospital – but then he just flipped to the end. He leaned back against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Finally he sat up and forced himself to look at the page. He felt his chest start to hurt as he read that he, Lennon, and Maisy would sing 'A Life That's Good' one last time. Then Rayna's eyes opened and closed, the script directions reading that the sound of a flatlining monitor would be heard. He leaned over, bracing himself with his elbows on his knees. The script fell out of his hands. He clasped his hands together and rested his forehead there, the tears rolling down his face. He realized then that he was hoping against hope that it wouldn't really happen, that she wasn't really leaving. But just as quickly, he knew she would never have let him think she was if she wasn't.

After a few minutes, he picked the script back up off the floor and opened it back up at the beginning, skimming until he got to his first scene.

* * *

It felt like they were both in almost every scene in the episode, but there actually was a day when neither of them were working. The evening before, as they were walking out of the building, he'd suggested they do something together the next day.

She looked surprised. "Are you sure? Can you get away?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll make it happen."

She smiled. "What were you thinking then?" she asked, a teasing note to her voice.

He shrugged. "Just get away, where nobody would see us." He breathed out. "I think maybe we need to have a little fun." They had walked up to the trailer farm. From here he'd go left and she'd go right. They stopped and turned towards each other.

She looked intrigued. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You game?"

She grinned. "Absolutely."

He smiled back. "Okay then. I'll text you with the plans. Be ready."

She laughed a little, sounding almost girlish. "Can't wait." Then she turned and headed for her trailer, as he watched until she turned the corner.

* * *

He was relieved that Patty had a busy day. Maybe it was that she felt a little bad about the episode. She had read the script after all, but had not said a word about it. They had not talked about Connie's plans, of course. She hadn't asked and he certainly wouldn't volunteer the information. She thought Connie was going back to LA right away. He wasn't going to confirm or deny it.

 _She found him out on the back porch, working on a song. She leaned against one of the posts, her legs crossed at the ankles and her arms crossed over her chest. He didn't stop what he was doing right away, but eventually he got to the end of the melody he was trying. He looked up at her. "Did you need me?" he asked._

 _She took a beat, then shook her head. "So, do you know when she finishes up?"_

 _He worked hard to keep a neutral look on his face and not to sigh or roll his eyes. "Before Christmas, I think."_

 _She nodded thoughtfully. "And I suppose she'll just go back to LA then?"_

 _He shrugged. "Maybe so," he said._

 _She frowned. "You really haven't asked her?"_

 _He sighed then, putting down his pencil. "She's gonna do what's best for her and her career. That's what I know." He stood up then, holding onto his guitar. "I think I'll head to bed. It's been a tiring day." He picked up his notebook and walked past her into the house._

He sighed deeply as he headed for Connie's house. He had no idea how long it would take before Patty realized Connie was still in town. He hoped a while. He had texted Connie before he left the rental place. _Wear jeans, a sweatshirt or sweater, a jacket and no heels._

 _Where are we going?_

 _You'll see. I'll be there in about 30 min._ The prospect of seeing her put a smile on his face. He was looking forward to surprising her. He'd rented a motorcycle and two helmets. He didn't often get to ride a bike and he thought it might be a good day for a ride and some alone time out in the country. It was a crisp, clear day, but not too chilly. He liked the feel of the road and pushing the speed on the bike. When he got to her neighborhood, he navigated the streets to her house, parking the bike about halfway up the driveway. He hopped off, taking off his helmet and grabbing the second one, then jogged up the walk to the front porch.

He looked around as he waited for her to answer the door. The houses in the neighborhood weren't too close to the street and there was good tree coverage, but now that it was December, the trees were mostly bare. When she opened the door, she looked at the helmets in his hand. "What are we doing, Chip?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

He grinned. "Going for a ride. You're okay on a bike, aren't you?"

She stepped onto the porch and looked towards the driveway, then put a hand over her heart, looking back at him. "I thought you might have meant a real bike," she said with a laugh.

He pretended to be surprised. "But this _is_ a real bike," he said.

She swatted his forearm. "You knew what I meant."

He laughed. "I thought we'd take a ride out a ways. You up for it?"

She hesitated for just a second, then grinned broadly. "Absolutely!" she said, laughing. She held out her hand. "Give me that helmet."

* * *

He loved the feel of her arms around him, pressed against his back, as they rode, the wind in their faces, feeling like they were the only two people on the road. The sun was shining and it had warmed up a bit, so the air wasn't so chilly. He drove up Briley Parkway and turned off on Ashland City Highway. He kept driving, through Ashland City itself and beyond. He turned off the highway and ended up at Sycamore Creek Recreation Area, a small park along a tributary of the Cumberland. The park was empty, which was what he'd hoped, and he looped around until he came up on a grill area with a picnic table.

He turned off the bike and parked it and got off. Then he turned to her and held out his hand. She took it and he helped her off the bike and then took off her helmet and his own and hung them on the bike handles. She slipped her hand back into his, as they walked over to the picnic table and climbed up on it. She slid her arm through his and bumped his shoulder. "Well, it isn't exactly Rayna and Deacon's picnic table, but it will definitely do," she said.

He looked at her and then put a finger against her lips, shaking his head. "No show talk today," he said, hearing a catch in his voice. "There's time after today for all that. Today it's just Chip and Connie, having a good day together. We're in the now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow. Today. We have a day without all that and I want to keep it that way."

He could see the dampness in her eyes and then she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I like the sound of that," she said softly.

They sat together quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts. He could feel the tension leave his body and he raised his face up and closed his eyes, drinking in the calm and the silence. He breathed in deeply, then looked over at her. "I love this place," he said.

She looked confused. "This park?" she asked.

He shook his head, smiling a little. "No. I mean this whole place. All of it. Nashville. Tennessee." He sighed. "I lived in LA a long time. Liked it. The sun, the pleasant weather, the hustle and bustle, the energy. Everything's at your fingertips. Even the glitz and glamour sometimes." She smiled. "But this place is where I feel at home. It's a city but it's not. You've got everything you need but you don't have to go far to feel like you're miles away." He covered her hand with his. "Everything good has happened to me here. This job. My music." He paused. "You." She held his arm a little tighter. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world to be loved by Connie Britton."

She bit her lip, a sweet smile lingering. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world, to be loved by Chip Esten." Her voice was soft and husky, betraying her emotions. He leaned in and captured her lips, letting the kiss linger a bit.

Then he grinned at her. "You wanna go play on the swings?"

She opened her mouth with surprise, but her eyes were twinkling. "Really? Can we see who can go the highest?" she asked, with a laugh.

He stepped off the table, taking her hand. "Absolutely," he said. "Let's go!" Together they ran for the swings. He took one and she took the one next to him.

She pushed off the ground with her feet as he watched. She swung out a little bit and not very high in the air. She looked back at him and laughed. "This is crazy, Chip," she cried. She gave him a side eye when she saw him still sitting there. "I'm not gonna be the only one doing this." She wagged one finger towards him. "You have to do this too."

He smiled and pushed off as well. He swung out farther and higher. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna compete with me?"

She kept swinging, pushing the ground with her feet, pushing herself higher. "I'll have you know I was the best at swinging when I was six," she called out.

He didn't really change his rhythm, preferring to watch her as she went ever higher, stretching her legs out in front of her as she rose up in the air. She was laughing, leaning back with her arms fully extended, her hair flying out behind her. When she looked over and saw that he wasn't doing much, she slowed down until her feet started to drag on the dirt. When she stopped, she looked over at him, her face pink from her exertion. "Did you give up? Didn't want to challenge the swing queen, huh?" she asked, smiling gleefully.

He couldn't help smiling at her. This was exactly what he'd needed and he was glad she'd been game to go along. "Well, I'm really better at the monkey bars," he said. "How about you?"

She made a face. "Not my best kid sport, I have to admit," she said. "But if you'll lift me up, I'll try."

He hopped off the swing. "You're on," he said, with a grin. He headed to the monkey bars and jumped up, grabbing the bars with his hands. It wasn't as tall as it had seemed when he was a kid, so it had really taken no effort to grab on. He could tell his feet weren't far off the ground. He swung forward, grabbing one bar and then the next, until he got to the last one and he dropped down. He was surprised to be a little winded. He looked back at her. She was looking up at the bar. "It's not that high, Connie. Even for you."

She looked at him and stuck out her tongue. "You _did_ promise to help me," she reminded him.

He grinned. "That is true. I did." He walked over to stand behind her. "You ready?" She nodded. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her up so she could grab the bars. "Can I let you go?"

She hesitated. "No."

"No? Why not?"

"Well, what if I fall?"

He laughed out loud. "Oh my God, Connie, you're like maybe a foot off the ground."

She looked down. "I think it's farther than that. I think I need you to keep holding on." He watched as she reached for the next bar with one hand. He kept his hands on her waist as she moved the other one, acting as though she was worried she'd fall into a deep canyon. He smirked. She moved one hand to the next bar and that's when he let go. "No, no, no, Chip!" she cried out, waving her feet in the air.

"You can do it, baby," he said, as he watched her with one hand on one bar and the other on a different one. "I'll catch you if you fall though."

She hung like that for what felt like a long time, and probably wasn't, before trying to let go and reach for the other bar. He could see her hand slip, though, and even though it wasn't a far drop, he did grab her by the waist and set her down gently. She turned to him, her hand over her heart. "Oh, thank you," she said, looking a little scared. "I don't think I'm gonna do that again."

He smiled. "Okay, we don't have to." He pointed at the slide. "What about that?"

She nodded. "I can do that," she said, with a smile. "I've done the slide with Yoby." It was one of those tube slides that that had multiple twists and turns. She ran around to the steps and started to climb. He followed her and stood below her, enjoying the view of her cute ass.

* * *

He climbed back up to the platform. Connie was sitting at the entrance to the slide. They'd probably done this ten times. "Don't dawdle," he said, as she got ready to slide down again. As soon as she started, he walked over and dropped down to the top of the slide, heading after her. As he rounded the curve, he saw her sitting at the bottom of the slide. She was looking back at him with a saucy smile. He grabbed the sides to slow his pace, sliding his legs around her and grabbing her around the waist.

"Thought you'd never get here," she said and then laughed. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her on the neck. She made a little satisfied sound, snuggling into the embrace.

He meant to push her to a standing position and then get off the slide himself, but instead he kept placing little kisses on her neck and behind her ear. She put her hands over his, letting them tighten around his a bit. She leaned her head a little farther to the side so he could have better access. He nudged her hair with his nose, trailing the kisses along the back of her neck as well. She kept making those little noises, rubbing her back against his chest. "Wanna go down the slide again?" he whispered into her ear.

"I don't think so," she whispered, her voice like a caress. She turned her head and leaned against his shoulder. "I think I'd like you to take me home now."

He laughed softly. "I think I'd like to do that too," he said.

* * *

He hit the gas a little harder on the way back. By the time they got to Connie's house, she'd have about an hour before she needed to be on the road to pick up Yoby from school. Again, he liked the feel of her arms around his waist and her body pressed hard against his back. When he pulled into her driveway, he turned the bike off, helped her off, and they ran up the walkway and the steps, pulling off their helmets as they went. She unlocked and opened the front door and he gently pushed her in, following behind. They dropped their helmets in the foyer and then he pressed her back against the wall, one arm around her waist, the other hand sliding into her hair, as he kissed her insistently.

She ran her hands up his back, pulling him closer, her tongue dancing inside his mouth as his chased hers. He let his hands slide down to her ass and he pressed her against him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She finally pulled her lips from his and looked up into his eyes. Her lips were puffy, her eyes half closed. "Not here," she whispered. "Upstairs."

He nodded and took a step back, taking her hand and pulling her up the stairs behind him. They quickly undressed each other and then got on the bed. She laid on her back and spread her legs open and he groaned. He nestled himself between her legs, propping himself on his elbows so he could look at her. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He shifted slightly so he could dip his hand between them. He felt how wet and ready she was and he sucked in his breath. She made a little moaning noise, her eyes focused on his. He couldn't wait any longer and he plunged inside her, steadily pushing in until he was completely wrapped up in her sweet warmth.

"I'm not gonna last long," he choked out.

"Me either," she whispered.

He captured her mouth with his, as he moved inside her. It only took a few long, powerful strokes and he released himself inside her, crying out incoherently, feeling the power of his orgasm that felt like it went on forever. In the midst of it all, she tilted her pelvis towards him and started to moan over and over. She tightened her legs around his back as they rocked against each other. And then he collapsed onto her, struggling to breath. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Or maybe it was his own, he couldn't tell.

He took a deep breath and pressed his lips against her neck, just behind her ear, and she moaned again. "Oh, Chip," she whispered. He could hear in her voice how completely satiated she was. He wondered if she had felt the same kind of out of body feeling he'd had. It had felt like they were the only two people on earth and that this act of love was somehow sacred, life-affirming, somehow melding them together even more than they had been before.

He raised his head and looked down at her flushed face. There was a light sheen of perspiration on her face and he smoothed her hair back. She let her feet slide down the back of his legs as he leaned down to gently kiss her lips. "God, Connie, I'm not even sure what that was," he said.

Her lips turned up in a little smile. "Me either. That was just, I don't know, like, I guess, so…much," she said. "God, I love you." He saw a glistening in her eyes and he leaned down and kissed them closed.

"I love you too," he murmured, then let himself just rest against her, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Eventually he moved off of her, laying on his side facing her. She turned towards him, letting her fingers trail across his cheek. She looked into his eyes, as though she was searching for something there. He didn't want the day to end of some kind of sad note, considering there would be so much of that coming up. He started to say something, when she put her index finger over his lips. "Thank you for today," she said. "I really had fun, just doing silly things like swinging and going down the slide." She smiled. "It was absolutely perfect. And right now I just feel so loved. And that's just the best feeling."

He brushed her lips with his. "I'm glad," he said. "It was a great day for me too." He pushed her hair back and kissed her again. "I feel loved too. Thank you for that. For all the times over these past five years that you've done that."

She pulled him to her for a long, lingering kiss that promised so much more, but then she pulled back. "I'd really like to just stay like this forever, but" – she smiled as she bit down on her lip – "I have to pick up my kid."

He kissed her hard on the lips. "I know."

* * *

She walked him to the door and he picked up the helmets. She smiled up at him. "This was just the perfect day. Just what we needed, I think."

He nodded. "Agreed." He kissed her. "I'll see you tomorrow then." She nodded, her eyes changing from happy to wistful. He kissed her again, then let himself out of the house.

* * *

Tomorrow came entirely too soon. He was up early, partly because he had to be at the studio early, partly because he'd hardly slept. Although everything wasn't being filmed in order, there were a series of scenes they'd be filming that day that came early in the episode, all centered around Rayna – a scene before the surgery and one after. They would also spend time on the waiting room scenes. A good portion of those had no words so those could be done more quickly. It would be a long day, not the worst of what he'd be doing in the episode, but he already had a knot in his stomach as he thought about his lines.

As he showered, he thought about the whole episode. He had a lot of scenes, all of them hospital scenes, except for the one scene where Deacon was driving to the hospital, which he would film later in the week, when Lennon was filming some nighttime scenes outside the hospital and on the pedestrian bridge. The final scenes of the episode weren't being filmed until the last day, fittingly. That would be a highly emotional day and was focused completely on Connie's final scenes. He felt tears mixed with the water from the shower and he breathed in slowly, not wanting to give into it.

He focused on the previous day with Connie. It made him smile. Getting to set aside the reality of her last episode had been a balm for him and he hoped for her too. Giving themselves permission to kind of leave the real world behind and just have fun together had been amazing. He'd actually been surprised that he hadn't thought much about what was coming. He'd allowed himself to be completely in the moment, something Connie would often say to him when they were together. _We just need to be present and focus on the now, be in the moment. Everything else can wait._ It had been that kind of day.

He was standing at the sink, a towel wrapped around his waist. He'd combed back his hair and he was brushing his teeth. He leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste and, when he stood back up, he caught sight of Patty in the mirror. She was leaning against the door frame. He raised his eyebrows at her as he wiped off his face.

"You were pretty restless last night," she said. "You okay?"

He looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "It's a tough episode. Highly emotional for everyone. I'm guessing it'll be hard for all of us." He fully expected some kind of veiled unkind comment, but he was surprised.

"I guess it will be," she said, nodding. "When do you film that last scene?"

He turned to face her. "Last filming day. Last day before the holiday break."

"They ever find out who leaked information?"

He shook his head. "I think they just took the position they'd ignore it. Connie's trying to deflect when she's asked."

"I'm sure it's tough," she said, her voice subdued.

"Yeah," he said, hearing his voice crack just a little. He cleared his throat. "I just wish they'd come up with another option." He breathed in. "I gotta get dressed. I need to be out of here in fifteen minutes."

She gave him a thin smile. "I'll go make coffee." He nodded and she turned to leave.

He rubbed his face and breathed in deeply, then let it out. He threw on some clothes, then did a quick dry on his hair. It was still slightly damp, but they'd want to work on it in hair and makeup anyway. He slid on his boots, then picked up his phone and slid it in his back pocket and hustled downstairs. He slid on a jacket, grabbed his keys and wallet, and took the travel mug of coffee Patty handed him.

"Hope it all goes well," she said, as he got ready to walk out to the garage.

He looked back at her and took a beat. "Yeah. Me too," he said. He opened the door to the garage.

* * *

Every day was an emotional day, as it turned out. Connie had recruited her best friend Carla to be the ghost of her mother. Watching them huddling together and giggling during breaks was disconcerting to him. When he'd come on set that day, he'd seen them, off to the side. Connie was in a hospital gown and little makeup. Carla looked like the quintessential wealthy woman, although he thought she actually looked more like someone from the 50's than a woman who had died in the 80's. But he supposed that was how wealthy women back then might have looked.

When Connie saw him, she smiled and waved. He smiled back and walked over to where the two of them were sitting, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, there," she said cheerfully. They both stood up. She grinned at him. "Is this like the fifth day in a row you've worn those clothes?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I'm not even sure they've washed them in between." He inclined his head to her. "Same for you though. That same hospital gown."

She shook her head. "Oh, no. Rayna had a different hospital gown when she first came in. But I think this one's three days in anyway." She gestured towards Carla. "Chip, this is my friend Carla, who I've told you about. Carla, this is Chip."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the hopeful look on Connie's face. He knew she was nervous about him meeting Carla and how her friend might react to him. Truth be told, he was as well. "Hey, Carla," he said, putting out his hand. She took it in hers and gazed up at her, her expression giving away nothing. "Connie's told me a lot about you."

Carla smiled. "She's told me a lot about you too," she said, the tone of her voice telling him that maybe Connie had really told her a _lot_ about him.

Just then someone came to fetch Connie, in order to get her set up for the scene where Rayna's mother would appear in her room. He and Carla half turned to watch, as Connie got into the hospital bed and they started setting up the hospital equipment around her. He felt unexpectedly nervous. He usually had no problem talking to people he didn't know, but Connie had never really told him Carla's reaction when she'd heard about their relationship. He'd hoped that the fact she had asked for her friend to have the role meant there was no weirdness, but he wasn't sure and had never asked.

Just then Carla took a step closer to him and he looked down at her, feeling anxious. "You should know she feels some anxiety about the future," she said softly, so softly he almost couldn't hear her.

For a second, he couldn't make words come out of his mouth. "She does?" he asked, finally.

She nodded. "She's so torn. Between being here and coming home." She looked at him closely. "Because she doesn't want to leave you."

He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "I don't want her to leave either."

"I told her she needed to be careful, but" – she gave him a tight smile – "she knows her own heart." She breathed in deeply. "Just don't break it." Just then she was called to the set and walked away. He followed her with his eyes, hoping he didn't break her heart either.

* * *

After filming for the day was over, he met Connie in her trailer. Carla had had to fly back to LA immediately after the scene was filmed, Connie had explained and she missed her already. "You'll get to see her more when you're back in LA though," he said, feeling a little morose.

She nodded. "Yeah." She was leaned back against him, his arms around her and his chin resting on the top of her head. She had her fingers threaded through his. "I'm glad you got to meet her."

"She gave me a little warning," he said.

She twisted around in his arms and looked up at him in alarm. "What do you mean? What did she say?"

He smiled at her. "Nothing bad, baby. Just told me not to break your heart."

She turned back. "Oh." She leaned back against him, drawing up one leg. "She's kind of protective," she said with a little laugh. "Actually all my friends are."

That surprised him. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's like they think I'm some fragile doll, especially when it comes to relationships." She paused. "I mean, I've been so careful in that regard. I've gone on dates, had a couple relationships here and there, but most of them think I'm in a drought right now." She laughed again. "They think I'm afraid. And maybe I have been, a little bit."

He thought about that. "Are you afraid now?"

She shrugged. "A little. I guess. I keep thinking that the past four and a half years have been a piece of cake compared to the unknown of the future."

He leaned down and kissed her on the neck. "We're gonna figure it out, sweetie. I promise." She nodded and squeezed his fingers.

* * *

He was tearing up before they even started filming the first scene on the last day. He could hardly look at Connie, standing around in that damn hospital gown or he was afraid he'd lose it. She had approached him earlier and she had barely started talking when he waved her off and walked away. He felt like he couldn't swallow and he wasn't sure how he was going to say his lines. His chest hurt and his head hurt. He wanted to tell her to stop, to tell them it was all a mistake, make them stop this insanity and let Rayna live another day. He was having a hard time breathing.

* * *

 _As the days had worn on, he felt like he'd taken on Deacon's persona. The panic, the anxiety, the fear, the reality of losing Rayna, all of those things felt magnified in him. It had been building every day, through every scene that was leading up to this. He had tried to mirror all the appropriate emotions, but it had been hard, especially if they went from a high to a low. But there had been tears most every day – some his, some Connie's, sometimes both._

 _They had filmed a scene earlier in the week where Rayna had told Deacon what she wanted the last song to be. It was a quiet, low key scene, when hopefulness was still there for the two of them. He still felt it though and the tear in the corner of his eye had been completely real. Connie had stopped by his trailer at the end of the day. He had pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. He buried his face in her hair. "Chip?" He pulled back and looked at her. She had a smile on her face. "_ _I'm_ _not the one who's dying, you know."_

 _He breathed in deeply. "I know, but, well…."_

 _She put her hand on his cheek and looked up at him with understanding in her eyes. "I know. It_ _does_ _kinda feel real. But it's not. And I'm not going anywhere." He frowned and she looked at him apologetically. "I know. But you know what I mean."_

 _He did. "Yeah," he said. "I just, you know, I just" – he looked up at the ceiling, fighting tears – "feel like it's…." He sighed. "I don't even know how to say it."_

 _She put both hands on his face and drew him in for a kiss. Then she looked deep in his eyes. "I know what you mean." She took his hand and led him towards the bench. "Come here." They sat, next to each other, and she took his hand again. "I feel like you maybe think this isn't affecting me the same." She looked over at him._

 _He shook his head. "No, I don't."_

 _She raised an eyebrow and looked unconvinced. "Yeah, I think you do." It was true, he had to admit. He kinda did think that. "I just think we're looking at it from two perspectives. You're staying here and I'm going to LA. But that's not about you. It's about me. I love the character of Rayna, even though they got a little away from her for a minute." He nodded. "I love Deacon and Rayna. I've always said that. This is really going to be hard for both of us, because it's playing out similarly for us, in our lives. And the hard part is that we're going through it alone, basically. We really only have each other to talk about it with and we're feeling it on a much deeper level than just an actor playing a role." She turned to face him, crossing her legs underneath her. "I think, if we were just coworkers, we're good enough actors that we could play all this very convincingly. But we're putting ourselves out there and nobody knows that. Nobody knows that we're in love and that we're facing this too. It affects us both. We may just show it differently."_

 _He nodded. "You're right. It's just hard though."_

" _It is." She smiled. "You know, I look in your eyes, when we do these scenes, and I can see how much you're living it. And I hope you see that with me."_

" _I do."_

" _And you're gonna make me cry when we get to the end. I know it." She took his hand, holding it in both of hers. "You know, the other night I started thinking like Rayna might think. I thought back through all our seasons and considered the actions she took and the things she did and the choices she made in light of the fact that she died young." He could feel the lump in his throat as she talked and he could feel tears in the back of his eyes. "Would she have changed things, had she known? Would she have chosen Deacon sooner? Would she have spent the time listening more to her daughter? And the truth is, you just never know. You and I, though, have made very conscious choices with respect to each other. I'm glad she made a conscious choice where Deacon was concerned and she'll know that she had what she always dreamed of, if not for long enough, at least she had it. It makes me sad for her, though. All this unfinished business." He could feel a tear trace down his face and felt better when he saw one roll down her cheek as well. She tried to laugh. "I'm kind of babbling, aren't I?"_

 _He smiled. "Yeah, you kind of are." She moved over and leaned back against him. He put his arms around her._

 _She sighed. "I guess it's just really hitting me right now. That this is it."_

 _He leaned in, nibbling a little at her earlobe. "I think what it is, is you're gonna miss the best fuck you ever had," he whispered._

 _She gasped and then she threw her head back on his shoulder and laughed out loud. He tightened his arms around her and smiled, the first genuine smile he'd had in days. "You are awful!" she cried. Then she turned her face to him. "You also are right." He kissed her._

" _Damn right I'm right," he said softly. Then suddenly he felt tears spring up and he lowered his head, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I hate letting you go," he whispered, his voice sounding like gravel._

 _She nodded and turned slightly toward him in his arms. She kissed him on the cheek. "I hate letting you go too," she murmured softly._

 _He sighed. "I just know I love you and this is hard. But we'll do it." She put her hand on his arm and turned her face towards his shoulder. He could feel the dampness of her tears there. They sat that way for a long time before either of them got up to leave._

* * *

Each day had been a little harder than the last. They felt the heartbreak of their characters and they poured themselves into it. And on that very last day, every emotion Deacon felt was his own. When Deacon begged Rayna not to leave him, Connie had broken down in tears, causing them to have to reshoot the scene, more than once. The rawness of those emotions were his own, channeled through his character. It wasn't just him, though. Everyone's emotions were real, the sadness hung over the set like a blanket. People cried who weren't supposed to and they had to do it again. Maisy cried to the point of hyperventilating and they had to reshoot again. And tears rolled down Connie's cheeks and she was shaking with sobs she was trying to hold back, as they filmed the scene where Rayna died. Finally they got it right and he knew that if they had done it a thousand times, the tears he shed at the end would still have been there. They were real, they were raw, and his heart was aching.

When they were finished, he walked quickly off the set, and then drove off the lot as soon as he could.


	22. Chapter 22

He got into his car and sped out of the parking lot. He turned on the radio, but he didn't want to listen to music. But he also didn't want to drive in silence – his thoughts and emotions would take over. He turned to a podcast, then turned the volume down so that it was like party chatter in the background. He wished he could close his eyes, but he couldn't, and he kept seeing the hospital scenes play out in front of him. It was her last time on the set – she would film the recording scenes they would use in a later episode after she returned from the break – and the next time he was there, she wouldn't be. He could feel himself want to cry, but he willed himself not to.

It was the holiday break. He'd be in Nashville and DC. Connie would go to LA. She'd be back, he knew that, first week of January. There was still gossip about whether she was leaving the show or not, but she'd be back in Nashville, at least. He got a lump in his throat and he could feel the tears well up in his eyes as he thought of her. It wouldn't be long and she'd be gone. It would pass by fast, he knew that, just like these few months of filming had gone fast. His chest hurt.

 _Don't leave me._ He could hear it in his head, couldn't shut it off, and the tears ran down his face. He wiped at his eyes with his arm, but the tears didn't stop. He heard his phone buzz and cut his eyes to the dashboard screen. After a second, the sound of the podcast was silenced and he saw 'RJ' on his screen. It felt like the letters were extra large and flashing. He couldn't talk to her right then. He reached over and pressed ignore. A minute later he heard a ding and knew she'd left a message. A buzz signaled a text shortly thereafter. His heart seemed to crack open and all he could hear then was the sound of his own crying.

* * *

He pulled off the highway and headed for Sutler's. He wasn't ready to go home. Didn't want to have to deal with questions or the looks. He wiped his face off and sat in the car for a moment, getting himself under control. Then he got out, walked inside, and sat at the end of the bar. He ordered a bourbon and sipped it. He pulled out his phone then. Connie's text was on his screen. _Please call me._ He listened to the voice mail next. _Chip, I know you were pretty upset when you left. Can you call me?_ He set his phone down on the bar top and then took another longer sip of his drink.

When the bartender came back with a second bourbon, his phone buzzed again. He looked down at the screen and felt a lump in his throat and the burning sensation of the tears in his eyes. He picked up the glass and downed half of it, then tapped his fingers on the bar. The buzzing stopped. He waited another minute, then picked up the phone and returned the call.

* * *

He wound his way slowly through the neighborhood. It got dark early in the winter, so it had been dark for a while. He looked at the houses, with their lights on, making them look warm and homey. He imagined families inside, laughing together, eating dinner, talking about the holidays. Most of the houses were decorated with lights and other decorations, Christmas tree lights twinkling in living room windows. It was all like a cruel, mocking joke. He turned into the driveway and sat for a minute. He pulled out his phone and held it in his hand. Finally, he opened it up and then held it to his ear.

"Hey," she said. "Are you home?"

He breathed in. "I'm in your driveway."

"Do you want to come in?"

He thought about that. It hadn't been his original plan to come here. When he turned into the neighborhood, he'd been a little surprised he'd done that. He hadn't had a plan, but clearly this was where he wanted to be. _Needed_ to be.

"Chip?" Her voice sounded concerned.

He sighed. "Yeah. I want to come in." He disconnected, then got out of the car, pocketing his keys. He walked up to the porch and, as he started up the steps, she opened the door. The light in the foyer backlit her, so he couldn't see her face clearly. He walked the rest of the way up the steps and then stood just outside the door. He could see the sadness in her eyes, on her face. She had no makeup on, her hair pulled back and her glasses on. She was in jeans and an old sweater. She reached out and put her hands on his face, pulling him to her for a kiss, a gentle, loving kiss.

She stepped back and took his hand. "Come in," she said, and he followed behind her. They walked into the den and she motioned for him to sit down. "Do you want something to drink?" He looked up at her and nodded. He waited while she went into the kitchen. He heard the clink of glasses and, after a moment, she walked back in with two tumblers. She handed one to him. "I'm thinking one is your limit," she said. "I can smell it on your breath."

He gave her a tight smile. "I'm not drunk. I just had two."

She sat down next to him, tucking one leg underneath her. "You wanna talk?"

He shrugged and looked down at the bourbon in his glass. "I don't know." He looked back at her. "What's there to say?"

She set her glass down and scooted closer to him. Then she took his glass and set it on the table next to hers. She rested her hand on his knee and then smiled. "I think we should think about some good things. Like the fact that we can text during the holidays. Or call. And that I'll be back just after the new year. That maybe we can spend a little more time together. And then before we know it, it'll be spring and we can go to the river with Yoby. And Blue. Make memories. Talk. Love each other. Plan for the future. And love each other some more."

He trailed the knuckles of one hand down her arm. "You make it sound so simple," he said.

"Why can't it be? Why do we have to dwell on…everything else? Why can't we, right now, think about the good stuff?"

He shrugged. "No reason, I guess."

She smiled brightly. "Then let's do that." She rubbed the palm of her hand on his knee. "So when do you go to your mom's?"

He breathed in, trying to capture her mood. He wasn't quite there yet, but he'd let her take him along for the ride. "Week before Christmas. And then back the weekend after Christmas." He sighed. "When do you leave?"

"Next week. Tuesday. When Yoby's out of school." She smiled. "He doesn't think it's really Christmas in LA. Too warm and sunny, he says."

He had to smile. "He's not wrong." He put his hand over hers and she turned hers over and threaded her fingers with his.

"I'll be thinking about you on New Year's Eve," she said. "Wishing you were there with me, kissing me at midnight. I'll imagine it though."

"Me too."

"When I get back I have songs to do still."

He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, you do."

She nodded. "I'm nervous about it too. I'll have been gone for a month, I guess, and I really haven't worked much with my vocal coach lately. It'll probably be awful."

He shook his head. "You never give yourself enough credit, Connie. You'll be good." He smiled at her. "What's Yoby getting for Christmas?"

She smiled. "Some action men and some trucks and road equipment. A train set. And clothes." She laughed. "He hates clothes for Christmas." She made a face. "'Mom, that's so _boring'_ ", she said, imitating her son.

He smiled more broadly then. "I get that. I don't necessarily want clothes for Christmas either. Although I get 'em every year. I think that's kind of a dad gift."

"Will you keep putting out your music?"

He nodded. "We've got the next four or five lined up, cover art done, because of the holidays. But they'll keep going out." He breathed in. "Got some lighter ones lined up, couple holiday ones." He reached out and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. "Next one's for you though."

She smiled a little shyly. "Which one?"

"Holding On. I gave it to you."

She nodded. "I remember. Thank you." She breathed in. "I'm glad you came by, but I'm pretty sure you need to get home."

He grimaced. "Probably. Don't want to though."

"I'd rather you stay here with me, but we'll have other times. Soon." She turned so she could tuck into his side. He draped one arm around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry everything's turned out like it has, but I know we'll make everything work. You know, I didn't come here looking for you, but there you were. And my life was changed forever, and in ways I never could have imagined. I'm ruined for anyone else, you have to know that. It will _always_ be you."

He thought for a moment about what she said. "So you're so sure everything will work out. What's that look like to you?"

She didn't say anything at first, then she turned towards him, putting two fingers over his lips. "Now it's my turn to say we're not talking about that right now. We're going to save that for another day. Not now, not too soon, but just in the right timing. Right now we'll just look forward to getting back here after the holidays. We'll see each other. Have some fun, enjoy being together. Relax." She smiled. "And then we'll talk about that. But right now, I just want you to hold me for a few more minutes before you have to leave." Then she turned around, settling back against his chest, bending one knee up. He moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders, his hand on her opposite shoulder, tucking her in.

The fact that she'd pulled back her hair meant that her neck was exposed. And the neck of her sweater slid down just a little so that some of her shoulder was uncovered. He pressed his lips against the soft skin along the ridge of her shoulder, then trailed his kisses over to her neck. She let out a contented sigh and relaxed even more into him. He continued with the little kisses until he reached the skin just behind her ear. She moaned softly and he felt her shiver against his chest. He wished he could stay a little longer, wished he could undress her and look at her magnificent body. Then he would do everything he knew she liked, pleasing her until she cried out his name.

It would have to be another time, though, when he could spend more time with her and could take his time, watching her as she let herself be overtaken by her desires. He breathed out then, just leaning his chin gently on her shoulder, letting himself wonder just a little about what things would be like when they both returned from the holidays. But like she said, he would put that aside for the moment. They still had some time. He rubbed his hand over her shoulder then and gently pushed her up. She got up from the couch and he followed.

She took his hand and led him out to the foyer. He pulled on his jacket, checking the pockets for his phone and keys. Then he took her in his arms and looked deeply into her eyes, before taking her lips with his, kissing her slowly and languidly, dipping his tongue in her mouth, feeling hers against his. He didn't want to stop kissing her, holding her, but he needed to go. So he pulled his lips from hers, then pressed his lips against hers for one last hard kiss. He took a long, deep breath, his eyes on hers again. "God, I love you," he murmured.

She smiled, a soft glow seeming to settle over her face. She looked relaxed, the tension he sometimes saw around her eyes gone. She'd been set free and it had changed her, in ways maybe only he could see. Not towards him – he realized that – but just in general. He felt her hands run up his back. "I love you too," she said. "So much." She breathed in, raising up her shoulders a little, then smiling again. "Have a nice holiday. I'll be thinking about you every minute."

He smiled back. "Me too. And missing you."

Her smile widened and her eyes almost seemed to glow. "Me too. So much."

He gave her one last kiss and then opened the door and let himself out.

* * *

He was scheduled for the Opry the night after his latest single had come out. Connie had been gone for three days and he missed her already. As always, he was honored to be invited to perform, and particularly to be the final performer. The warm and enthusiastic reception was always appreciated. He'd said it many times – that he felt a little like a pretender, walking amongst the greats he would share the stage with – but he was deeply affected every time he was there. He knew he was there because of the show and he never wanted to forget that, but he also wanted to make his own path as well.

As he typically did, he would perform his latest song, enjoying the opportunity to share it live with the fans. On this night, however, it felt bittersweet. He'd written it for Connie, about Connie, about the idea that she'd saved him from a life that had felt empty. He was holding onto her, waiting for her, just as she was holding onto him.

He sang it over the lump in his throat and with tears glistening in his eyes. He felt her filling him up and he sang every word to her. He sang it even though Patty was standing maybe fifty feet from him on the side stage.

 _When the day is done  
I will be the one  
Holding onto you  
Holding onto me_

 _All I need  
The only where I need to be  
Is holding onto you  
Holding onto me…._

* * *

The break had felt like it dragged on for months instead of weeks. He'd put on a good face, spending time with his kids, trying to set aside the emptiness he felt while they were apart. She hadn't been able to really put herself out there for other jobs and wouldn't be able to until the episode aired and he knew that was hard for her. They had texted a lot, but also made time for quick calls. He could hear in her voice how happy she was to be back in the place she always considered home. She tried to hide it, he knew, but he could hear it. She was anxious to move on to the next thing, anxious for her next career step. The truth was, he would never have denied her anything, would let her go chase that next dream, and be happy for her, even while he missed her. He already missed her and she really wasn't even gone yet.

 _He'd found a private minute to call her late Christmas afternoon. He'd taken Blue out for a run and had stopped to make the call. He sat on a bench and waited for her to answer._

" _Hey!" she said when she answered, sounding upbeat._

" _Hey. Just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas." He smiled to himself, trying to imagine her surrounded by the things and the people she loved._

" _I'm so glad you did. I wanted to call you earlier, but I know how it is. Texting didn't seem personal enough."_

" _You're right, it's not. So, you had a good day?"_

 _She laughed. "Still having it, actually. You know, I told you, it's like an all-day marathon. Presents, eating, laughing, more presents. And then maybe some Christmas movies. Yoby loves Christmas movies." She paused. "How about you?"_

" _You know. Family, food, fun. Music and merriment."_

" _Okay. I can't decide if you're being truthful or being kind of a smart ass."_

 _He laughed. "A little of both, I guess." He thought about her, maybe still in her pajamas, her glasses on, her skin sun-kissed now that she was in California. He felt a little choked up. "I miss you." His voice had a raspy sound to it._

" _I miss you too, my love." Her voice was low and sensuous. He was pretty sure she didn't realize how just her voice could get his heart racing. "It won't be long now though and we'll be back in Nashville. I'm gonna want to see you as soon as I get back._ _Need_ _to see you, actually. Just need_ _you_ _."_

 _He smiled. "Need me, huh?" he asked._

 _It was quiet on her end and he heard the sound of a door close. "Okay, I only have a minute, but when we're back in Nashville, I need you inside me. Over and over. I mean, God, Chip, I dream about it. I dream about you touching me everywhere and then" – she lowered her voice – "fucking me every way possible."_

 _He loved it when she talked like that. He could feel himself getting hard just from listening to her, thinking about doing everything she said. "Every way possible, huh?" he asked._

" _Well…." He knew there were one or two things she wasn't crazy about and he never forced the issue. It was never about sexual gymnastics, it was about love, even when it was hot and sweaty and raw. He groaned. "Now I've got you thinking about it, don't I?" she asked, her voice low and sultry._

 _He breathed out hard. "Yeah, you do, and there's nothing I can do about it."_

 _She laughed softly. "Now you can dream about me tonight," she said._

 _He grinned. "Oh, baby, I dream about you_ _every_ _night."_

* * *

The family got back to Nashville New Year's Eve. Connie would be back at the end of the week. It certainly wasn't the longest amount of time they hadn't seen each other, far from it in fact, but every day seemed precious, since there was an end date now. Patty had not asked and he had not volunteered the information that she would be coming back to town. They went to a New Year's Eve party, even though they had driven all day. He was more tired than he realized and so he drank too much, which had resulted in him commandeering the piano and singing, getting the crowd into it, cracking jokes and talking up everyone. He knew he was being somewhat manic, but couldn't stop.

Shortly after midnight, Patty pulled him away and told their hosts that it had been a long day and they were going to head out early. As he put on his jacket and they walked out the door, he started to come down off his high. The night was crisp and cold and he felt it. Needed it. When they reached the car, he pulled out his keys, but Patty snatched them from his hand. He scowled at her.

"You're drunk, Chip," she said, her face drawn and her tone brittle.

"No, I'm not," he argued.

"Yes, you are," she said. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you've been drinking more than you normally do." She stood looking up at him. "You could mourn a little less, you know. Try to get over…it."

He was feeling the liquor and probably wouldn't have said what he did otherwise, but he couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "She's not gone yet," he said, drawing out each word for emphasis. She looked like he'd slapped her. Even in the dark, he could see the color drain from her face. He felt his heart pounding, thinking they were right at the edge of the cliff, probably the closest they'd been yet. The silence between them was deafening. It felt like a crossroads.

Finally she looked away. "Get in the car," she said quietly.

They drove home in silence. He wondered if perhaps _she_ would make the move now. He acknowledged to himself that it would be easier, at least for him, if she did. It was that old desire to be liked, to not be the bad guy. It felt like if he said the words, it would be because he had a reason, which of course he did. He wondered what she would say, once they got home. What she would do. When they got to the house and drove in the garage, she quickly got out of the car and briskly walked into the house. He sat in the car, watching her, hoping she'd just go to bed and he wouldn't have to face her, at least until the morning.

He waited until the door closed behind her and then he got out. He could feel himself sway a little and put his hand on the side of the car. Clearly he was a little drunker than he'd thought. He couldn't even remember how many drinks he'd had, which probably wasn't a good thing. When he walked in the house, he was surprised to see her standing in the kitchen, her arms crossed and her face impassive. He closed the door behind him and waited.

"You can sleep in the guest room," she said, her voice shaking just a little. "We'll talk tomorrow." And then she turned and headed for the stairs.

He watched her, her back stiff and straight, her steps measured. He closed his eyes briefly, then leaned against the counter. He had no idea what to expect. She'd invested a lot in his outside activities – the touring he did when the show was on hiatus, his Every Single Friday project, his merchandise, organizing the Light the Night program and all the ancillary activities. She had taken all his crazy ideas and made them real. He definitely did not minimize the importance of that, but he also longed to be free.

He headed for the guest room, aware that his gait was unsteady, feeling the effects of too much alcohol over too long a period of time. He closed the door to the room and walked over to the bed. He crawled onto the top of the covers, without taking his clothes off or even brushing his teeth. The last thought he had was that he'd, for all intents and purposes, admitted his relationship with Connie. He had no idea what the fallout might be. But the other side of that was that he dreamed of Connie, dreams filled with both the sweetness and the hotness of her love.

* * *

The next morning, when he came out to the kitchen, after rinsing his sour tasting mouth out with mouthwash and raking his fingers through his hair, Patty was in the kitchen making the traditional New Year's Day breakfast of an egg casserole, cinnamon rolls, and orange juice. She looked at him, but said nothing. He walked over to the coffee station and filled a mug. When he turned back, she said, still concentrating on breakfast, "You should take a shower and clean up before the kids get up."

He raised his eyebrows. "Got it."

As he walked towards the stairs, she said, "I know you had too much to drink last night." He stopped but didn't turn around. "But you shouldn't make that a habit. It has a way of lowering your filter."

He took a beat and then headed up the stairs. Apparently she was going to overlook what he'd said the night before and let the status quo ride. He wasn't at all sure how he felt about that.

* * *

The night before Connie was flying back to town, he was unable to be still. He tried to write, but couldn't stay in one place long enough. He tried watching television, but he couldn't do that either. He'd just gotten the script for the next episode, but couldn't bring himself to look at it, which was dangerous, since he had scenes the day after the table read. It was still so raw and he knew the episode would be painful and emotional. He picked up a book, read a few pages and put it down. Patty gave him a side eye and he knew he needed to get out of the house.

He got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing his keys. "Where are you going?" Patty's voice was brittle.

He reached for his jacket and pulled it on before answering. "Just out," he said.

"I'll go with you," she said.

He hadn't necessarily expected that, although he thought maybe he should have. She had said nothing else to him about New Year's Eve, but he had known she wouldn't completely ignore it. "I just want some fresh air," he said, jamming his fists into his pockets.

"Let me get my coat and maybe we can walk the neighborhood," she said. Her voice was even and lacked emotion, so he knew she was going to dig in.

He took a deep breath and frowned. "I'd really like to be alone, Patty, if you don't mind," he said. "I want to think through the episode we have next week."

She got a stubborn look on her face. "I still want to go with you."

He could feel the anger bubbling up. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and threw them out to the side. "Why? I've already told you I want to be alone. Why can't you let me be?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Chip," she said. "Maybe I can't keep you from texting her or calling her, but I can keep you from having extra time on your hands. I want to know what you're doing, where you're going, who you're spending time with. I feel like I need to watch what's going on more closely."

His heart was pounding as was his head. He tried to control himself, but he couldn't. "I'm not Blue, Patty," he said, his voice getting louder. "You can't put me on a leash and keep me close. I'm not a child who needs to be monitored. I'm a grown man who can make my own decisions. I don't need you making them for me or controlling my life."

Her eyes flashed with her own anger. "I feel like you're forgetting that you actually are married," she said. "And you have a family. We came all the way here to support you and yet your attention is divided. The longer this goes on, the more opportunity there is for something to leak. And then where will you be? You'll disappoint all those fans who think you're this stand-up guy who loves his family. What will they think?"

He shook his head, ignoring her dig at the fans who followed him on tour, on social media, and elsewhere. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them, but he wasn't living his life for them. "I _do_ love my family. You know that," he said, trying to control the anger he felt. "I've been here for over five years and there has never been even a hint of me being linked to _anyone_ except you. So why are you all of a sudden so concerned with a leak?"

"Things have changed. You'll be here alone at some point. You could get careless."

He put his hands to his head. "Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me?" He headed for the back door, then turned back to her, pointing at her. "Don't follow me," he said, a dark scowl on his face. "Don't even think about it." He opened the door and walked out, slamming it behind him.

* * *

He'd parked on another road in the subdivision. He turned the car off and pulled out his phone, scrolling down to Connie's number. He lifted the phone to his ear, waiting for her to answer.

"Hey there," she said when she answered. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

He took a deep breath. "Just needed to hear your voice."

"Well, that's sweet. I'm glad you did. So what's up?"

"Just had to get out of the house." He clenched his jaw as he said it.

"Oh, dear. What happened?"

He huffed. "You know. The same thing. Patty trying to put a collar on me. Insinuating things."

She was silent for a moment. "Well, I'm not exactly sure what to say about that." They rarely talked about Patty or about that part of his life. He knew she wasn't comfortable with it and he didn't want to make her feel bad. Or feel like she needed to walk away. "Did something specific happen?" He could tell she was choosing her words carefully.

He sighed. "I had a little too much to drink on New Year's Eve and I guess I said a little too much."

"Oh, Chip!" She sounded a little disappointed. "What did you say?"

"She was needling me about you leaving and I told her you weren't yet." She didn't say anything and he couldn't even hear her breathing. "Connie?"

"Chip, you need to be careful. If you're saying things like that, you're walking a dangerous road." She paused. "I don't want to be in the middle here. This is already a situation where you can't be careless."

He fumed, as she used the same word Patty had. "I'm not careless," he said angrily. "I've never confirmed anything to her and I would never put you in a bad place."

"But you kind of have, you know. You might as well have confirmed things by telling her I wasn't leaving yet. And it _does_ put me in a bad place, Chip. I mean, you know I love you, but this affects me too. I don't want this to blow up. I don't _need_ it to blow up."

"So you don't trust me?"

"That's not what I said. I just said you need to be careful."

He scowled. "You said I was careless."

"It was a careless thing to do, Chip. You know better. We both have a lot at stake here." She sighed. "Maybe I need to think about going back to LA sooner."

He slammed his hand down on the console. "So you're gonna bail on us now?"

"No, of course not. You're just being ridiculous now."

"Am I?"

"Stop it!" He could hear her voice shaking. "Just stop it! If I did go back earlier, it would be for _you_ , Chip. So you wouldn't have this in your face all the time. I wouldn't want to, but I would do it for you. And for your family." He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. "I hate to see you going through this. Because of me. Because it's hard to balance it all. You know, I'm actually surprised it's taken this long. That's a lot of stress for one person to handle." He could hear the tears in her voice and he felt like a heel.

"Oh, God, Connie, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm being a real jackass to you and you haven't done anything."

"You know you can talk to me about anything. You can vent to me about anything. It won't change how I feel. But I'm worried about you. I mean, I _could_ leave and it would be easy for me to be out of the line of fire. And I would do that, if you needed me to. If it would be easier for _you_."

He sighed. "No, I don't want that. I think I just need to not let her push my buttons. He rubbed his face. "God, baby, I need to see you."

"Well, I'll be back tomorrow, and I know we wanted to see each other, but Yoby will be here, so maybe it would be better to wait until next week. You know, I've got studio time on Monday morning, working with my vocal coach."

"We've got the table read Monday." He was dreading it.

She was quiet for a moment. "Well, I think that's gonna be a tough day for you. Why don't you come by when you're done? Do you think you can?"

He sat up and rubbed his face again. "Yeah, I can do that. What time do you think you'll be home?"

"Oh, by lunchtime, I think. Maybe one."

"So, a nooner then?" He was feeling a little better after talking to her.

She laughed, that sexy, husky laugh of hers. "Close enough. I'll be anticipating the fireworks."

He smiled to himself. "As will I," he said. "I love you, Connie."

"I love you, Chip. And I have really, really missed you." He could see her smile in his head. "I'll be counting the days, hours and minutes until Monday."

"Me too, baby. See you then and safe travels…home."


	23. Chapter 23

The table read was the first time he'd actually read the script. In some respects, that wasn't a good thing. He saw everything for the first time in front of everyone. But it also meant that he felt all the things Deacon would feel, in the moment, and he wanted to try to hold onto that, for the sake of the show and his performance.

It had been a solemn day in the room, much like it had been when they'd read through the last episode's script. But this felt different somehow. Eric was there, and Judith, and it was good seeing them, but there was not a single happy scene in the entire script, so everyone in the room felt it. And then, of course, Connie wasn't there. It was as though the light had gone out, for all of them. And for him, most of all.

He'd also felt angry though. Angry at the place they were. Angry at where Connie had left _them_ by leaving. It made him angry again at _her_ , for doing this to them. And hurt. He had so many feelings swirling inside of him, some things he couldn't put a name to, some that he couldn't say out loud.

During a break, as he was getting some coffee, he felt a hand clap the back of his shoulder and he turned to see Eric. His friend was smiling, that congenial smile that had always made the character of Teddy hard to totally dislike. "You okay, Chip?" he asked.

He frowned. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. You just looked really intense in there. Almost like you were surprised by it all."

He took a sip of his coffee and then breathed in. "I kinda was, actually," he said, with an apologetic smile. "I couldn't bring myself to read it before."

Eric nodded. "I get it. I mean, I know you and Connie were really close, plus your characters being together. It's gotta feel sort of odd."

He nodded. He felt an ache in his chest. "Yeah. It does." He put his coffee down and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Kinda makes me wonder what happens to Deacon, without Rayna."

Eric grinned. "Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that." He looked around and then lowered his voice. "I think you're really going to be the main character of the show going forward. Hayden doesn't seem as invested to me. I think there's a lot that can be written for you and what Deacon's life is like now."

He raised up his shoulders and breathed in. "I guess we'll see. It really feels like the heart of the show is gone though." Eric looked at him kind of oddly then and he wondered if his emotions were playing out over his face. He tried smiling. "Glad to see you back, even if it's just this one episode."

Eric laughed. "I was happy they called, although certainly not happy about the reason." He paused. "So have you talked to Connie since she left?"

He widened his eyes and nodded. "You know, texting and stuff. She's back in town though, for a bit." He had no idea if she wanted it known she was staying for a while, but he figured that was her news to tell. "Doing some vocals for the next episode. So I'm sure we'll talk."

Eric smiled. "I'm sure you will." Then he patted him on the shoulder and walked off, with a little salute. He couldn't help but wonder, since he'd mentioned their closeness, if his friend had any inkling. He knew a few people did, although he would never confirm. Mark Collie, for sure, and Sam. Clare maybe. He reached back for his coffee and took a sip, then made a face. He poured out the lukewarm coffee and got another cup, then wandered back to the table to finish the read.

* * *

He went back to his trailer once they were done. He put his face in his hands and cried. He wasn't at all sure how he would do this. They were filming the burial scene at the end of the week, along with some footage afterwards at the real house that doubled as Rayna's house. He also had studio time to record the song 'Sanctuary'. The last day of the filming would be the climactic scene at the Bridgestone, doing the tribute to Rayna at the CMT Awards. If it weren't such a painful episode, he would probably have laughed over the fact that the awards were always in June, not in late winter as it was in the script.

The next day he would film scenes in Deacon and Rayna's bedroom, one with Clare and one with Lennon. He looked up, his elbows on his knees. This episode and the next one would be heavy, that he knew. Then the mood would begin to lift, according to Callie. She had asked throughout the last episode about how he was holding up. She had shared that after they got through the immediate aftermath of Rayna's death, it would be about picking up the pieces and moving on. He rubbed his face and smiled ruefully to himself. _I don't know how_ _I'm_ _gonna move on. I can't even imagine how it would be for Deacon._ He sighed.

His phone buzzed and he picked it up. _Hey, I'm leaving the studio. Can you come by?_ He felt choked up again and breathed in deeply, trying to ward off the moroseness of the day. He texted her back. _On my way._ He got up and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He toweled off, then walked back out, pulling on his jacket and picking up his phone and keys. Then he left the trailer and headed for his car.

* * *

He pulled into her driveway, parking by the garage. Then he hustled up the walk and up the steps to the front door. She opened the door before he'd had a chance to knock. She reached out to hug him, but he brushed past her. "What the hell?" she said, closing the door.

He turned to look at her. "I'm pissed, Connie," he said angrily. "This _didn't_ have to happen. We _didn't_ have to go through all of this, this _mess_! You just didn't think about the rest of us."

She frowned. "Are we still doing this? Really?" She threw her arms out to the side. "I mean, you would really have preferred I be miserable? You would really tell me I had no right to think about myself and my creativity and the things I want to do with my life?"

He knew he sounded petulant, but it was all he could think about on the drive down. "I just don't know how you think the rest of us are gonna survive this, Connie. You're just being selfish."

She gasped. He wished in that moment he hadn't said that. It was what he'd been thinking, but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away. And then all he could think about was how pretty she had looked when she opened the door and how happy the smile was on her face when she saw him. The fact that she'd opened the door before he got there meant she'd been watching for him. And now, once again, he was being an ass. A _selfish_ ass.

"I'm sorry," he said, into the still of the air. " _I'm_ the one being selfish."

She turned around then to look at him, an angry look on her face. "Yeah, you are. And I'm starting to wonder if you're ever gonna get over this. Because _that_ is the thing that could end us, Chip." Her eyes were flashing and her face looked pinched and drawn.

He felt a cold chill run up his spine. "What does that mean?" he asked, challenging her a little.

"It means that if we love each other, we support each other, even when it's not comfortable for us. I would do that for you. If there's something you really want to do, that feeds your soul, and sparks your creativity, I would want that for you. Even if it took you away from me for a bit or it was something I selfishly didn't want you to do. I would support you, unless it was something that would hurt you. I will always want the best for you, Chip, and that you feel free to reach for those things you want." He could see her shaking just a little, could feel her passion in her words, and her truth, and it made him feel petty. "If we can't do that for each other, then where are we, really?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Today we read through the script for Rayna's funeral and those first few days without her. I felt just as lonely as Deacon did, just as adrift. It was like the light went out of him. And I could feel it, deep in my bones." He walked over to her and put his hands on her arms. "I _do_ want you to do whatever makes you happy. If you're happy, that makes me happy. And I _do_ support you. And I promise, I won't be a jerk again."

She seemed to relax a little then. "Well, I think you probably _will_ be a jerk again at some point. I don't think you can help it." Her face softened and he caught the hint of a smile. "You know, when I was gone, I thought a lot about what's next and it's both exciting and a little scary, to put myself out there again. And I want to be able to tell you about those things and celebrate the victories and have you build me up when there are failures. I need you to walk beside me on this journey. I _want_ you to."

He smiled at her. "You're right, I probably _will_ be a jerk again, but hopefully not about this." He breathed in. "I _do_ want to support you and celebrate with you. And you know there won't be a need for building you up, because you won't have a failure." She smiled a little more then. "You're amazing, Connie Britton. I'm just honored to be in your life. And I need to remind myself not to fuck it up."

She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on his waist. "I think that would be a very good idea." She smiled this time with her whole face, her lips parted, and her eyes turning warm again. "I need you, you know. We need each other." She stepped into his embrace then, her arms around his waist and his around her shoulders. She leaned her head against his chest. "Now, why don't you take me to bed?" she said, her voice so soft he almost wasn't sure he'd heard her.

She pulled back and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. He grinned. "Really? You've forgiven me for being an ass?"

She gave him a look, shrugging just a bit. "Well, you know, I just kind of _need_ to be that close to you. Maybe help you feel a little less like an ass." Then she smiled. "So, will you? Take me to bed and make me scream?"

He stepped back and took her hand. "Let's go try," he said, and then he pulled her towards the stairs.

* * *

She didn't actually scream. It was more like a loud, gasping noise, signaling that she had just been exquisitely pleasured. He had done what she liked best, peppering her first with feathery kisses as his hands and fingers stroked her skin and hair. Then he'd focused his attention on her breasts – tweaking her nipples, sucking on them, running his tongue over the silky soft skin, letting his thumbs tease her as she arched her back, closing her eyes and moaning with pent up need. Then he let his lips and tongue trace down her abdomen, teasing her with his tongue, as she moved her hips in rhythm with him. And then finally, when she was whimpering with frustration, he pulled up and hovered over her. "Eyes on me, Connie," he whispered. She looked up at him and smiled, then bit down lightly on her bottom lip. She opened her legs, drawing them up slightly and reached her arms up, her hands resting on either side of his neck. By this time they were both so ready for each other that it didn't take long, after he'd thrust deep inside her, for both of them to reach satisfaction. He was only vaguely aware of how she tightened around him because he was so intent on burying himself as deep inside her as he could.

He gave one final thrust and cried out as he came, then, balancing himself on his forearms, looked down at her. Her face was flushed and dewy, which made her freckles stand out. Her hair was damp right around her forehead and her mouth was slightly open. A smile crossed her face, that soft, satisfied smile, and she laughed just a little, and he could feel it around him. He smiled down at her. "That work?" he asked.

She grabbed his upper arms and smiled more broadly. "Oh, yes, that was like heaven," she said, breathlessly.

He tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "No fireworks in your lady parts?" he asked, with a wicked grin.

Then she did laugh. "All the fireworks, my love," she said. "All the fireworks."

He kissed her hard, then rolled off her onto his side. He reached his hand out, making circles around her breasts, teasing her nipples, making her catch her breath. "You like this, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded. "I love it. I love how you touch me, Chip." She looked a little wistful. "I don't think any man has ever touched me the way you do. Or made me feel the way you do."

There was a small part of him that hated to think about any other man being with her, but he pushed it down. They both had pasts – they were too old not to – but what they had together was all that mattered. He breathed in, feeling emotional about what she'd said. "I'm…um," he sputtered, words failing him. He felt overwhelmed by what she'd said.

She turned on her side facing him, putting her hand on his cheek. "You're speechless?" she asked, with a smile. He nodded. "You know, you say things like that to me and it makes me feel, well, wonderful, of course, but also like I have a lot to live up to. But I want you to know that's how you make me feel, so I understand why you want to tell me the same." She blushed a little. "I think it's because it's really love, deep love. That's why we feel that way."

He threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling her close enough so that he could kiss her, long and slow, letting his tongue run over her lips, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. When she opened her mouth to his, their tongues battled and, as she firmly pressed her breasts against his chest, he could feel himself getting hard again. She pulled her lips from his and smiled, her eyes sparkling. He smiled back, letting his hand slide between them. She pressed her pelvis against his hand and he slowly slid two fingers inside her, biting his bottom lip as she let out a long, slow moan. "You like that?" he whispered.

"Uh huh," she moaned, rocking into him again. She was so warm and so wet and then she let her hand reach down to stroke him and he shivered, his nerve endings on fire.

Holding her in place, he got up on his knees, lifting her left leg up and across his body, as he straddled her right leg. He dragged his thumb slowly across her wetness and she moaned again. He reached out and brushed the hair away from his face and she looked up at him as he entered her, slow and steady, pressing in insistently. He watched her face as she took him in, shifting ever so slightly around him. Her eyes were half-closed, her mouth parted slightly, her breathing quickening.

"This feel good, Connie?" he whispered, as he filled her completely up. She nodded, making little moaning noises. He could feel himself throbbing inside her and he didn't think he would last much longer. She pressed herself against him, rocking her hips. He reached in between them, knowing he was ready to come, and had barely touched her when she came explosively, crying out his name. Then he thrust in one last time and emptied himself inside her, squeezing his eyes closed and moaning out loud. After one last shudder, he breathed in and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and she had a hint of a smile on her face. "Jesus, Connie," he murmured.

Her smile got bigger. "Oh, God, I have missed this," she panted. "Oh, God, Chip, that was amazing." He smiled as he looked down at her, her face dewy and flushed, looking deeply satisfied. She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he leaned over her. "I love that," she said. "Feels so good." He leaned down and kissed her and then rolled off of her onto his back.

He lay there, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about the look on her face when he'd moved her leg across his body. She had seemed a mix of surprise and curiosity which then turned to….bliss. It was the only way he knew to describe it. She trusted him. They could give themselves each to the other and know they were safe, that they were loved. He wished he were better at controlling his angry emotions, but he also felt safe in knowing she still loved him, even after they fought. He turned his head to look at her and smiled when he saw her smiling at him. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back. She turned towards him, wrapping one arm around his waist and laying her head on his chest. He put his arm around her shoulder and back. It felt good to be here like this with her, but he suddenly felt melancholy, thinking about the fact that he wouldn't be seeing her most days on the set. He sighed. She turned her face up towards his, frowning slightly. "What's going on?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I guess. I just, well, it was strange, you not being there today." He sighed again.

She rubbed her hand over his chest. "I know." She let her fingertips run over his shoulder. "I'm guessing it was a tough day."

He nodded. "For everyone. And it's sure not gonna be the happiest episode we've ever done." He breathed in. "It's just gonna be tough."

She was quiet, as though she were considering what to say. She ran her fingers up and down his chest. "You wanna talk about it?"

He thought about that. She had always been the one he talked to about an episode. How their scenes would go, what they needed to consider in order to play them with authenticity, how to change a word or two, or just a vocal inflection, to give a scene more resonance. He'd relied on her for four and a half years, just like she'd relied on him. But she wasn't there now. Rayna was dead and he had to figure out how Deacon moved on from that. He shook his head. "I don't think so."

She sighed. "I understand. If you ever want to, though…."

He rubbed the top of her arm with his hand. "I know. It just feels, you know, I mean…."

"Like I've abandoned you," she said softly. He leaned his head down to kiss the top of her forehead, not saying anything. Then she rose up, propping herself up on her elbow. She looked over at the clock and grimaced. "I hate to do this, but I need to leave pretty soon to pick up Yoby from school."

He rolled onto his side and reached up to pinch one of her nipples. "Shower?" he asked.

She bit down on her lip when he pinched her, then smiled. "Shower sex?" she asked.

He grinned. "Thought you'd never ask." She laughed gleefully and jumped off the bed, heading for the bathroom, as he followed behind her. She wound her hair up on the top of her head and, as they were getting in, she turned to him, pointing a finger at him. "Don't get my hair wet," she warned.

He kissed her cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

 _He'd tried but her hair still got a little wet, as he pressed her against the back wall of the shower. He kissed the back of her neck as he ran his hands down over her breasts and then to her hips. He pulled her closer and nudged her legs open, then adjusted her so he could enter her swiftly. He pressed his chest against her back and put his hands on her abdomen as he moved in and out of her with rapid strokes. She made noises, almost guttural sounds, and he was breathing in and out quickly. Then he slid one hand down between her legs and she pressed against him firmly as she came. He held her close and then, just as she was coming down, it was his turn to push back into her and let himself go with a loud groan._

 _They stood that way for a moment and then she laughed, low and soft. "I can tell you got my hair wet," she said._

He smiled to himself as he drove home. She always knew the right thing to say, the right thing to do. He did feel safe with her – safe to share his feelings, to be angry or hurt. It was refreshing, to be with someone he could be so open and honest with, who gave as good as she got. He needed to figure out a way to be with her as much as he could, before she left for good.

* * *

He pulled into the garage, got out of his car, and walked into the house. He dropped his keys on the counter by the door, along with his wallet. He took off his jacket and hung it on one of the hooks on the back of the door, pulling out his phone and sliding it into his back pocket. He was headed for the den when Patty walked out of the office. "You're late," she said, and he looked over at her.

"Just a long day," he said.

She frowned. "It was just a table read."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I know that, Patty. I was there." He clenched his jaw.

She walked closer to him. "Where did you go after you were done?"

"What makes you think I went anywhere?" He stood with his hands on his waist.

She took a step closer. "I smell her."

His mouth went dry for a second. They had spent the whole afternoon in bed, after all. But then he realized it was impossible. They'd taken a shower before he left. He shook his head. "That's ridiculous," he said as he walked into to the den and over by the fireplace.

She followed him, then stood behind him. "I need you to stop doing this, Chip," she said. "I _want_ you to stop doing this." He didn't say anything. He didn't want another slip up. "If I had known this would happen, I would never have encouraged you to take this job. We wouldn't have waited a year to come here."

He scratched his cheek, then turned around to face her. He tried thinking back to the years before Addie had gotten sick, the years when he'd thought this was all he ever wanted. But then they had grown so far apart and he'd found Connie. It ate away at him. He didn't really like being this person, living two lives, but he'd made the commitment to his kids and he needed to see it through. He wasn't immune, however, to the fact that it had changed things for her too. He shook his head. "I'd have done it anyway," he said. "This is a role of a lifetime. You, better than anyone, knows how many times I got this close" – he held his thumb and index finger so close together they were almost touching – "and it didn't work out. I might never have another role like this one, on a show I love this much. And it's given me so much more, with the music. Is that something you would really have wanted me to miss out on?"

She took a deep breath. "I just wish they'd done this in LA," she said.

"Well, but they didn't. We're here, for better or worse. But I think this is the only place we could've done this." He sighed. "I'm sorry. For several things. For the fact that this has been tough on you. For the fact this isn't what you wanted. But here's where we are and I need to play this out to the end."

She looked at him carefully. "All of it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He closed his eyes for a second, then looked back at her and nodded. "Yeah. All of it." He knew, and she knew, what that meant, without having to say the words. She looked a little stricken then. He ran his tongue over his upper lip. "I'm grateful, Patty. For everything you've done, for all the ways you've helped me. I'm no good at this stuff – the planning and the money and the scheduling – so it's been good having you there to handle that. It means a lot to have your support."

He could see her jaw tighten. He waited, thinking she was going to respond somehow, but then he was surprised when she turned and walked out of the den, leaving him standing there.

* * *

He was in wardrobe, getting dressed for the scenes he would do that day. He stood in front of the mirror as the dresser tied his tie. Then he shrugged into the suit jacket and a wool overcoat. It still felt like a darkness had fallen over everything. The day was gloomy, just like his mood. Rain was predicted for the day they were supposed to the graveside scene. It had been decided they'd do it there anyway. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to think through his lines for the day. Luckily he didn't have but a few and, for the first scene, with Clare, he only had one.

He took a detour to his trailer before he headed for the set. He walked in and went to the jacket he'd worn in that day. He pulled out his phone and looked at the text Connie had sent him. He'd told her he wanted to do something that honored the character – and her – and had finally figured out what it would be. She had asked what he'd decided. He thought about it and decided not to tell her right then. He opened the text and typed out _Just watch the episode and you'll see_. Then he slid his phone back in his jacket pocket and walked over to the table near the front of the trailer. He tapped his fingers lightly, then picked up the guitar pick that read _Rayna Jaymes_. Then he left and walked slowly across the lot.

* * *

It was a miserable day the day they filmed the graveside service. It was raining hard enough that there was some consideration to postponing, but in the end they stayed on schedule. Maisy was sitting next to him as they drove out to the cemetery where they'd be filming. She leaned against him, her arms crossed. "The weather just feels like I feel," she said, sounding morose.

He looked over at her and then put his arm around her. "I know," he said, over a giant lump in his throat. He breathed in, looking up at the ceiling of the van. "It fits with the scene."

She looked up at him. "Are you ready for this?"

He felt like crying, but he smiled sadly, shaking his head. "No, I am not," he said. He looked down at his hand that held the prop book he'd be using in the scene. He'd written the verse he would be reading as they stood by Rayna's grave so that he wouldn't mess up the words. But what he was more concerned about was that he wouldn't be able to get through it. He sighed, then looked back at Maisy. "But we'll get through it." She looked up at him and nodded.

* * *

The rain didn't stop. Even when they went to the house that stood in for Rayna's house, it was still raining. He felt worn down, like there were weights in his shoes as he dragged his feet down the long entryway towards the steps. It hadn't been hard to act like he was mourning. In many ways, he actually was. It wouldn't be long now, before the episode aired with Rayna's death and then Connie would truly be free to chase other opportunities, which would take her away, eventually for good. His heart felt heavy and he had really no trouble with acting grief stricken. In many ways he was.

It wasn't too late in the afternoon when he changed into his own clothes and then drove off the production lot. The rain had diminished some, but it was still a gray, chilly, wet day. Just before he got on the interstate, he hit the call button and said "Call RJ". After the second ring, she picked up.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft and compassionate. He could feel the tears rolling down his face and he couldn't speak. "Chip? Are you there?" He made a choking noise but still couldn't say anything. "Stop by," she said then. "Even if it's just for a minute."

"Okay," he managed and then he disconnected.

* * *

The rain had turned to a light drizzle by the time he got to her house. He walked slowly up the walkway, then jogged up the steps. As he landed on the porch, she opened the door, her face filled with sadness – for him, he knew. He walked into her embrace and she just held him as they stood together in the foyer. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, feeling tears running down his face onto her shoulder. She rubbed his back as they swayed together slightly.

When he let go of her and looked down at her, she reached up and put her hand on his cheek, wiping at the dampness on his face with her thumb. "I don't know how I'm gonna do this without you," he said.

She gave him an encouraging smile, but didn't say anything right away. She let her hand drift down to his chest. "You _can_ do this," she said. "You'll be amazing."

He breathed in deeply, trying to put a smile on his face. "I know I need to go, but thanks for letting me stop by," he said.

She smiled softly. "Always. I'm always here for you." Except, of course, one day she wouldn't be, but he pushed that aside. She put both hands back on his face. "Always. No matter where I am." It was like she'd read his thoughts.

He nodded and then leaned in to kiss her, his lips lingering on hers. "I love you," he said.

She smiled. "I love you too."

He pulled her into his arms and held her again, as she leaned her head against his shoulder, clinging to him the way he was clinging to her. "I'll call you later," he whispered raggedly. Then he let her go, giving her one last kiss, and walked back out the door.

* * *

Just as he closed the car door, the rain started again, getting harder as he pulled out of her driveway.

* * *

The last day of filming was at Bridgestone and featured the CMT Awards, with the tribute to Rayna. He'd been in the studio the day before, recording his harmony vocals on the song. He'd had a conversation with Lennon around who he thought the song had been written about, from the show standpoint.

" _I think it's about Deacon," she said. "You know, back when he was drinking and going to rehab and all that."_

 _He smiled a little. "Really? 'Cause I think it's about Maddie and how Rayna wanted to protect her."_

 _Lennon shook her head firmly. "No. I mean, I get why you think that, because of the way it starts, but it's too grown up, especially in the middle, to be about a little kid." She smiled at him. "I can't believe you don't see it. it's all about how she was there for him, saved him from himself, let herself be that place he could land all those times."_

 _He thought about it again, thinking about what she'd said. Then he shrugged. "I think it could be about either one actually," he said._

 _Lennon laughed, shaking her head again. "Nope. I'm right on this one, Chippy."_

He shook his head with a smile, just thinking about it. Lennon and Maisy had just all of a sudden gotten so grown up. Sometimes he felt like an honorary dad to them, although they certainly had a very loving and supportive dad already. But they blew him away sometimes – many times, actually – with the nuances of their performances and how heartfelt they were. He knew these few episodes were hard on them and that they were missing Connie too, so he tried to stay close when he could.

He'd also gotten the script for the next episode the day before and it sort of felt like the hits kept coming. He was hoping that maybe this was the end of the anguish he'd have to feel. It all hit so close to home for him, so his emotions on camera were all too real. Deacon needed a break. _He_ needed a break.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror in the dressing room he was using at the arena. He was dressed all in black, with the exception of a white shirt, and that felt appropriate, on many levels. Most importantly, it felt appropriate that, since they were still grieving, they would all wear something dark. But it felt like Deacon too. His character had a dark side, one that had followed him his entire life. The light in his life had been Rayna, so it seemed appropriate for him to go back to that place, even if just emotionally, when the light went out. He felt a lump in his throat and swallowed.

He was lucky, he realized. On the show, Deacon had lost his true love. Forever. That wouldn't change. But he, at least, hadn't lost his. Connie would still be there. Still in Nashville, for a while, but even later, when she'd left and returned to LA, she would still be there. He wasn't losing her. He took a deep breath, thinking that was what she kept telling him, that she was still there, that she would always be there, and he lifted his eyes to the ceiling, blinking back the tears that threatened.

Then he heard his name called to the set and he breathed in once more and shook off his Chip melancholy and wrapped himself up in his character's instead. He looked in the mirror and breathed out, then turned to walk out.

* * *

It had been a long day that had turned into night. When he left his trailer, he was struck by the chill in the air, reminded that it was still January. Again, he had to smile a little as he considered how they had manipulated time for show purposes. The real CMT awards would be in June, when it was hot and humid in Nashville, not cold. Briefly he wondered how well the large group of extras would do at keeping details of the shoot under wraps, but then that really wasn't his problem to worry about. He got in his car and turned the key in the ignition, letting the heat take some of the chill out.

He pulled out his phone. It was almost eleven, so he texted. _You up?_ Then he leaned back against the seatback, closing his eyes, waiting. When he heard the buzz, he looked down at the phone screen. _Come see me._ She knew he was filming late and he felt his heart ache as he thought about how much he needed to see her right then, if only just to hold her and remind himself that the flesh and blood woman was still there. _Soon_ , he typed. Then he put his phone away, put the car in gear, and headed out.

* * *

He was awake deep into the night, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Patty was asleep, pulled into a tight curl on her side. There was, as always, a yawning chasm between them, both literally and figuratively. They each slept on the edges of the king-sized bed, neither being the type to toss and turn or move much during sleep.

She had, of course, been waiting when he got home, standing in the kitchen in her robe, her arms crossed angrily, her face tight. She'd scolded him – and that's how he felt it – for not calling, as though he were one of the kids. Normally he would have barked back at her, but he could still feel Connie's arms wrapped around him, the heat of her body warming his, and the feel of her lips against his own, and he wouldn't let Patty disturb that.

 _He hadn't stayed long. They hadn't even said a word to each other when he got there. She just pulled him in the door and then led him upstairs. She knew, without him having to say it, that he would only be there for a short time, and so she pulled him to her and kissed him, almost desperately. They fell on the bed and he'd taken her quickly, with no preamble, hard and fast, as she held on tightly. Then he'd laid on her heavily, panting, his face in the crook of her neck, feeling her fingers threading his hair as she soothed him._

 _He rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. She sat up and scooted over close to him, resting her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his as they sat quietly. Then he turned to her. "I need to go," he whispered._

 _She looked at him and nodded. "I know." She got up and took his hand, pulling him up onto his feet. Then she led him back down the way they'd come and, as they stood together in the foyer, she put her hand on his cheek. "I'm glad you came by."_

 _He gave her a little smile. "I'm glad you were here."_

 _She pressed her palm against his chest, over his heart. "I'll always be."_

He breathed in, slowly and deeply. Even now, as the minutes ticked by towards dawn, he could feel her, how she took him in and gave him solace. He still sometimes didn't feel like he deserved her, but he was always grateful to have her in his life. Now and always.


	24. Chapter 24

He'd begun to wonder if he'd ever have a scene again where he wasn't either crying or wanting to cry. He'd obviously never experienced this kind of loss himself, but it made him introspective. He'd always tried to be a good father, he'd tried for years to be at least a good husband, but he hadn't felt truly alive until the day he'd stepped on the set of Nashville for the first time. He'd been such a fan of Connie's for so many years and he'd been nervous about meeting her, about sharing screen time with her, but they had connected from the first moment they met. So he supposed he knew a little about how Deacon felt about Rayna. And about losing her. When he watched the screen clips of her they'd put together for the episode, he had felt like a vise was closing in around him. He knew that the woman on the screen was the very alive, very flesh and blood woman he loved and who loved him, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was making a mistake. Had made a mistake. Maybe it would have been better to rip off the band aid and gotten it over with. Not made her wait. Not made himself wait.

She met him one night at a hole in the wall out in the far north of Davidson County, on an old country road where the clientele was sparse and no one looked at them twice. She'd put her hair up under a ball cap and wore her glasses anyway, but the place was dim, the whiskey was warm, and they had felt a sense of relief to not have to hide away for once. He had his hand on top of hers across the table. She smiled. "This was a really great idea," she said, looking around. She looked back at him and leaned across the table. "How did you find this place?" Her voice was low and quiet. "And why?"

He smirked. "Just out driving one day. Wasn't ready to go home and I guess you were otherwise engaged. What I like about it is that these people don't seem to be the least bit interested in me. Or you."

She smiled. "Well, you know that the locals aren't that enamored with us, really. I mean the _real_ natives."

"But you're Connie Britton," he said, squeezing her hand.

She laughed softly. "Oh, pfftt," she said. "Nicole _Kidman_ lives here. And she's an Oscar winner. And people aren't that impressed with her either. Well, except for tourists and the ones who've moved here from somewhere else." She leaned forward again. "So this place is great." She took a sip of her whiskey. "So, how were things today?"

He sat back, letting her hand go. It had been brutal, pretty much the entire shoot. He'd spent most of the day watching videos. Or pretending to. Reading a notebook with someone else's handwriting, subbing for Rayna's. He could hear her audio, things she'd recorded right after she returned, just like the vocals she'd done at the studio, while they filmed her. He sighed, then looked at her. "Really tough." He sat up straight and leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. "I'm wrung out. This had really turned me inside out, I'll be honest. I'm just grateful the next episode has a time jump. I don't think I can play the sad sack anymore."

She reached across the table and laid her hand on his arm, her brow furrowed with concern. "I'm sorry about that."

He breathed in, not wanting to spoil the evening. He still felt a little abandoned, at least on set, but he was determined not to make her feel bad about it anymore. "Let's not talk about it, okay?"

She looked a little surprised, then gave him a little smile. "That's fine. What _do_ you want to talk about?"

He smiled at her. "How good it feels to be here with you. Like this. Like we're regular, normal people."

She grinned. "We're still regular, normal people. But yeah, I like being able to do this and not feel like I have to look over my shoulder or worry that someone will notice us." She reached across the table and took his hand. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that this is really special. And unexpected. And it makes me really happy." He smiled. It made him happy too.

* * *

When they walked out of the bar, it was dark. As they moved closer to spring, the dark didn't come quite as early, but it was still early evening when they headed to their cars. His fingers were loosely entwined with hers and, as they walked, they occasionally bumped into each other. They had talked about mundane things – about Taylor's burgeoning career, about Yoby's school projects, Chase's mountain climbing, and Addie's soccer team. She talked a little more about the Netflix project she would be working on. _It's just a week of filming. In March. Right around Yoby's break._ But of course, by then, Rayna would already be dead and he had no idea what the fallout would be.

When they got to her car, she leaned back against the driver's side and he stood close to her, his hands resting lightly on her hips. She looked up at him and smiled. "I'm glad you came up with this idea," she said, resting her palms on his chest. "It was nice to get out and have adult conversation for a change. Even better that it was with you." She slid her arms down and around his back, pulling him a little closer. "I do need to get home though." She breathed in. "Kiss me?"

He chuckled softly. "You bet," he said. He put his hands on either side of her face, sliding his fingers into her hair. He leaned in and brushed her lips gently, then more insistently. He felt her hands run up and down his back and he didn't really want to let her go. When he pulled his lips from hers, he kissed her forehead, then cleared his throat. "So you gonna watch?"

She hesitated for a moment, then screwed up her face. "Oh, I don't think so," she said softly, sounding a little apologetic. He knew she had mostly stopped watching sometime during the fourth season, not that she normally watched much anyway, although she had watched the wedding episode. But even this season, she'd mostly stayed away, saying she didn't really like watching herself.

He sighed. "At least watch the episode after Rayna, um, passes away." He hated saying the word 'die', for some reason. It sounded harsh to his ears. "I did something just for you."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?" She gave him a tiny smile. "Maybe. I'll try."

He hoped she would, but he wouldn't nag her about it. He smiled. "Next single is for you."

Her smile got larger. "Really?"

He shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. I guess. It is but it isn't. Completely. But, you know, all my songs are really for you."

She scratched his cheek. "I'll be looking forward to it." She rose up on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "I love you."

He smiled. "I love you too." He reached behind her and opened her car door. He waited while she got in, then leaned in. "Drive safe."

She nodded. "You too."

He stood and watched as she started the car and then slowly drove out of the parking lot and out onto the road. He shoved his hands in his pockets and breathed in slowly. Then he finally headed for his own car and followed the same way as she had.

* * *

He understood the consequence of his ill-advised slip on New Year's. Patty made good on her promise to monitor him and, rather than have daily fights, he often just didn't rock the boat. It didn't make him happy and it certainly didn't make Connie happy. It was frustrating to have to be content with brief snippets of time here and there, relying mostly on texts and furtive phone calls. But her time in Nashville was shrinking day by day and he only had himself to blame for the lack of quality time with her.

He was at work, just after Valentine's Day, when she texted him. _I'm going to be a bitch. I NEED to see you._ He couldn't help but smile. That it was just after Valentine's was entirely coincidental. She had told him, that first year, when he'd gotten some for her, that she thought Valentine's Day was stupid. But he was straining at his leash and feeling the need to see her as well. It had been just over a week when they'd had stolen time together, not nearly long enough, and this wasn't working for him either. _Fuck Patty. This is more important._ He walked off the set to a private area and called her.

"It's been too long, Chip," she said when she answered. "I need sex!"

He laughed. "Just sex, baby? That it?"

"Well, the first time, yes. I need you to just do it dirty and then we can do it slow." He heard her let out an exasperated breath. "I mean, God, Chip, this is _excruciating_. Every single part of my body is itching for you."

He had to admit he kind of liked this, her raw need for him, and the way she articulated it. "Well, that sounds like a summons I can't refuse. I'm finishing early today. Would this afternoon be soon enough?"

"I guess it'll have to do." He could hear the playfulness in her tone. "When can you be here?"

"Assuming no major screw ups, by one?"

"I'll be waiting," she said and then disconnected.

* * *

He felt lucky that they actually finished the scene a little early. That almost never happened. In fact, it was more the case that they ran over. Seriously over. So this was a gift. After he'd gotten cleaned up in his trailer, he pulled out his phone. _Will be late. Need to take care of something._ He smiled to himself. More like he needed to take care of some _one_. Almost immediately Patty texted back. _Where are you going? What are you doing?_ He could feel the anger and the scowl in the text. _Just have something I need to do_ , he texted back. Then he slid his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. He turned on the ignition and then said "Call RJ". He waited for her to pick up.

"Hey!" she said.

"I'm on my way. Be ready."

She laughed softly. "I'll be as ready as I can be."

He smiled to himself as he pressed the end button. Then he put the car in drive and headed out to the main road.

* * *

He didn't even have to knock on her door. She pulled it open, gesturing for him to come in. He walked into her arms, pushing the door shut behind him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her lips to his. He kissed her long and deep, tightening his hold on her. He didn't want to stop kissing her, but he was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra and he needed to check that out. He pulled his lips from hers and looked down into her eyes. They were dark with both need and desire and he breathed in sharply. He slid his hands under her sweatshirt and discovered that she, in fact, was _not_ wearing a bra.

"Your hands are cold," she murmured, but she didn't pull away from his exploring fingers. He saw her bite down on her lip and look up at him through her eyelashes, as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, gratified when they tightened into firm little buds. She moaned a little in the back of her throat, as he swirled his fingers around her and then pinched her nipples. His erection was straining against his jeans and he knew he needed to be inside her quickly.

He groaned and turned her around, then gently pushed her into the living room and up against the living room wall. He put his hands on her hips and rubbed himself against her, enjoying the long moan she let out then. He slipped his hands down inside the waistband of her yoga pants and then chuckled against her shoulder. "You bad girl," he said, completely turned on by the fact that, not only wasn't she wearing a bra, but she wasn't wearing panties either.

He pushed the fabric down over her ass and to her lower thighs. He remembered what she'd said about wanting to do it dirty. He hurriedly unzipped his jeans and then held himself in his hand, nearly groaning as he did. He slid between her legs and pushed himself inside her. She made a long, low noise as he pushed in, not giving her time to adjust to him, just moving in as deep as he could go. She made a tiny moans as he moved inside her and then she whispered, "Faster, babe, faster", so low he almost couldn't hear her. But he did as she asked, feeling like he was going to come any minute.

Then suddenly he exploded inside her, the intensity seeming to blind him with a white light for a moment. As he completely emptied himself inside her, his movements were almost frantic, the friction of it making him pant. He leaned against her back, his hands up under her shirt, squeezing her breasts. She was moaning, pressing against him, almost sounding like she was crying. In the post-sex haze, he moved one hand from her breast and slid it down her abdomen, his fingers finding the place where they were still joined. With just two flicks of his thumb, she cried out, clenching him inside her as she rode out her wave.

He collapsed around her then, one hand still cupping her breast and the other arm wrapped around her waist. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and then on the back of her neck. She breathed out in one shuddering whoosh. She tilted her head to one side, giving him full access to her neck and the sensitive place behind her ear. "Oh, wow," she murmured. "That was…well, that was just what I wanted. Just what I needed."

"Same," he said. Then he stepped back from her and rearranged his jeans as he watched her slide up the yoga pants and turn around to face him. She was flushed, her hair tangled, and then she smiled and put her hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. When her lips left his, he let out a half-chuckle. "Damn, baby. You're the hottest, sexiest woman I know."

She laughed. "And you're the hottest, sexiest _man_ I know." She breathed in and let it out. "Wanna go sit in the den for a minute and rest up for the slow, lingering stuff?"

He grinned, wrapping his arm around her neck. "Oh, yeah," he said, with a laugh.

When they sat on the couch in the den, she leaned back against him and pulled his arm around her shoulders. She sighed. "It feels like almost every time we see each other it's about sex," she said. "Did you realize that?"

He frowned. "It's really good sex, though," he said.

"It's really amazing sex, actually. I just don't want that to be everything we are."

He kneaded her shoulder for a second. "I don't think it is. But it is one of the ways we connect with each other."

"I know." Her voice was soft and then what she said next felt both comforting and heartbreaking, all at once. She's said it before, or some variation of it, but it still always made him wonder if he'd made the right choices. About anything. "I just want a normal life, doing mundane things, not having to hide in the shadows, not able to feel settled."

He lowered his head, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I thought about it, last summer," he said quietly. "I was tired of having to pretend. I thought, a couple times, that she was going to call me out and that finally, it would all be over." He sighed. "I'm sorry I'm disappointing you, baby."

She turned in his arms to face him. "You don't disappoint me, Chip. I'm not trying to make you feel that way. I know it's gonna happen one day. You'll call me and say 'I'm coming', and then you'll be there. And we can actually start our lives. Together."

He leaned in and kissed her gently. Then he stood up, taking her hand. "Let's go. I wanna hold you in my arms and feel nothing but your skin, smell your hair, kiss your lips." She smiled and let him pull her upstairs.

* * *

They were both laying on their sides. He was running his knuckles gently over her cheek. Her hand was resting on his hip and she smiled that smile she had was she was deeply satisfied. "You remember the first time we were together?" she asked.

He smiled back at her. "I do."

She ran her hand back and forth over his hip. "I thought it couldn't be any better than that. Because it was the first time, and so unexpected." She bit her lip. "But every time just gets better."

He pushed back her hair, tucking it behind her ear. "I'm the luckiest guy…." She put her index finger over his lips and shook her head.

"You're not supposed to say that, remember?" He nodded. "This has been amazing. And there's more amazing to come. Right?"

He smiled. "Right."

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, watching what she was doing. Then she looked back at him. "So are things better?"

He knew she meant work. Now that they were finally past the super sad stuff, his own mood had lifted somewhat and he knew she'd noticed. He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." Then he smirked. "But you know they're bringing in a love interest for Deacon."

Her eyes flew open wide. "What? Are you kidding me?" He had to smile at her reaction. _She's a little bit jealous._

"You jealous?"

She made a face. "No." She looked away for a second. "Who is it?"

He tried to look reflective. "Well, they brought on two new female characters, so it could be either one, I guess. But I think I know which one it is."

"Who?"

"Don't worry. She's married." He grinned.

Now she looked horrified. "Deacon's going to get together with a married woman?"

He laughed. "No, no. I mean the _actress_ is married." She gave him a side-eyed look. It didn't take but a second for him to realize how that sounded. "You don't need to worry, baby. You're kind of stuck with me."

She looked away. "That's not what I meant."

He reached out and put his finger under her chin, turning her head back so she had to look at him. "Yeah, it is. And I think I'm flattered a little bit that you would even _think_ that."

She swatted his hand away. "I'm _not_ thinking that." Then she gave him a little embarrassed smile. "Okay. I was thinking that." She pointed her finger at him. "Don't ever forget you're mine."

He rolled over, pushing her back against the pillows. He raised one eyebrow. "Oh, you can be sure I won't forget that." Then he put his lips on hers and kissed her urgently, fighting her tongue with his own, running his hand down her side, then flattening it against her ass. He lifted his lips from hers for a second. "I don't have eyes for anyone else but you," he murmured, then found her lips again. When he felt her arms around him, he relaxed into her, as she begged him to love her again.

* * *

The thing he remembered most, as he was driving home, was her infectious laughter and the sparkle in her eyes. It had been a long time since she'd laughed so joyfully and he suddenly realized that he'd seen her dissatisfaction as well as the brave face she'd tried to put on as she felt more and more mired in something that wasn't joyful any longer. He felt a lump in his throat as he realized that she'd put on that face for him too, while she was dying inside creatively. It wasn't him she needed to separate from, it was her desire to do something different. Now that she was free, she was also free to be completely happy and he really couldn't deny her that. He would miss her, feel lost without her, but he could feel himself start to yearn for the day to come where they could be together, living in that happy, joyful place they both deserved.

* * *

He woke up and he was reminded right away that it was the night the episode where Rayna died would be on. His heart felt heavy and he swallowed. The light coming in through the curtains was dim, so he knew it was a dreary day outside. _Fitting._ He breathed in and then let it out slowly. He had one scene to film that day – a scene with Clare, where Scarlett tells him her baby is a girl. He felt mistiness in his eyes just thinking about it. It was a great uncle/niece scene and he always enjoyed working with Clare.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He wasn't due on set until after lunch and he thought about going in early so he could call Connie. He sighed, then looked backward over his shoulder. He breathed out, seeing Patty's side of the bed empty. Then he picked up his phone off the bedside table and saw that it was almost eight thirty. He'd need to get up in a few minutes and take a shower. He opened his home screen. There were some notifications, from Twitter and Instagram. He knew Patty looked at his phone when she had a chance and so he and Connie normally only texted during the day or when he was at work. He'd locked down his phone so that Patty wouldn't be able to get into it, but she would be able to see texts on the main screen, so it seemed more prudent.

He thought about the song he was releasing the next day. Pretend It Isn't There. It was a song he'd written back in the first season, about Deacon and Rayna's relationship. It was a sad song, about how Deacon waited and pretended he had a life without Rayna, all the while having to watch her have the life they were supposed to have with another man and their girls. He'd pitched it and had hoped it might get used on the show. But although Frankie loved it, T-Bone thought it was too dark. _I think we have our quota of Deacon pining after Rayna songs_ , he'd said. _He just can't be a sad sack_ _all_ _the time._ He was disappointed, but glad he was now able to put it out there. It seemed to fit his and Connie's relationship too.

He forced himself to sit up, then slid his legs over the side of the bed. He wondered if he could make himself watch the episode. The girls liked watching with him. Patty would be in the room but it had been a long time since she'd actually really watched. She'd watched willingly the first season, when she was still in LA, calling him the next day to talk about it. It wasn't really until the third season when it became obvious she was no longer invested. She had come to the premiere party that year and drank too much before she got there. And she no longer liked watching his scenes with Connie.

He pushed up from the bed and headed for the shower. He took a longer shower than he usually did, just not able to make his legs and feet work to get out. When the water turned lukewarm, he finally seemed to snap out of it and turned off the water. He got out and walked over to the sink. He leaned forward, looking at his face. He saw circles under his eyes, from his restless sleep, and his eyes had that look like he was going to cry. He breathed in deeply and rubbed his face and then the rest of his body with a towel. He combed his damp hair, then went back in the bedroom to put on clothes. He didn't bother to dry his hair, since the hair and makeup folks would take care of all that when he got to the set.

He sat on the bed and slid on his boots. He looked at them for a moment. They were the first boots he ever wore as Deacon. Now, almost five years later, they were well broken in and comfortable. He only wore them on days he was on set and occasionally when he performed at the Opry or the Bluebird. He'd bought other boots since he'd been in Nashville that he wore most days. He stood up then, rubbing his face and stretching, then headed for the door and down to the kitchen.

Patty looked up from where she sat at the kitchen island. He knew he should say something but he couldn't get his mouth to open. So he went to the coffee machine and got a mug. He took a swallow and then breathed in deeply. "I didn't think you had to be in until after lunch," she said.

He turned around to face her. "I don't," he said.

She slid off the stool. "Do you want me to fix you something for breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Not really hungry. I can always get something from craft services later." Just then his phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. She raised her eyebrows and her lips got tight. He looked down. _Moved filming up by an hour._ He took another swallow of his coffee and then looked at her. "They moved up my set time."

"Really?" He could hear the skepticism in her voice. He said nothing, but walked over and held the phone screen up to her face so she could see the text. She turned away, crossing her arms. "So I guess you'll leave soon?'

"Yeah. Like now." He put his phone back in his pocket. He walked back around to the coffee machine and got a travel mug. He poured the leftover coffee in and then poured more on top. He picked up his keys and wallet, then turned to her. "I'll see you later." Then he headed for the door.

"Chip," she called out and he turned back. "Are you going to watch with us tonight?"

He didn't want to. If he was going to watch, he really wanted to do it alone, but it was a ritual and Taylor and Addie had made sure the night before that he'd be there. He nodded. "That's the plan," he said, then turned back and headed out the door.

* * *

When he got to the set, he went through wardrobe, then hair and makeup. He was at Deacon's house set over an hour before they would get set up to even film the scene and, of course, that was never a given. He sat on the couch in the living room and pulled out his phone, scrolling down to call Connie.

"Hey, babe," she said when she answered. "Are you working today?"

"Yeah. Doing a scene with Clare. So, what are you doing?"

She laughed softly on her end. "Well, at this moment I'm finishing up some very unglamorous laundry. Then I'm headed over to Yoby's school for lunch and a parent program after."

He couldn't help but smile at the mention of Yoby. "What kind of program?"

"Well, you know, little skits, singing kindergarten songs, things like that. I expect it to be not very polished, but very, very adorable."

He chuckled. "Well, all of that is true. I remember my own kids at that age. Definitely not a lot of polish." He breathed in. "Did you decide to watch tonight?"

She was silent for a moment. "I'm not," she said. "You know, I've had some time now and some separation, and I think I'm kind of past it. Plus, I don't think I really want to watch Rayna die. I lived it. That's enough." She paused again. "Are you mad?"

He shook his head and frowned. "No, course I'm not mad," he said. "You know what works for you."

"Are you? I know how tough it was for you."

"Well, Taylor and Addie are counting on me to watch with them. It'll be tough, but I can't disappoint them." He sighed. "I know I need to let you go."

"Yeah, I need to change clothes." She took a beat. "It'll be okay, Chip. Now that you're past it, things are looking up, right?"

He considered that. _Were they?_ He still missed his partner and it had been hard. But he wasn't going to let her think otherwise. "Yeah, getting there," he said. "I'll talk to you later then."

"I love you," she said, her voice soft and warm. It felt like she was wrapping him up in her arms.

"I love you too," he said. After he disconnected, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

* * *

It had been every bit as tough to watch as he thought it would be. Even though they'd filmed it just over two months prior, it was a heartbreaker, for sure. Taylor and Addie had bookended him on the couch as they watched, eventually snuggled into his sides, their arms wrapped around his and their tears soaking his sleeves. It also didn't escape his notice that as soon as the show was over, Patty left the room.

* * *

He didn't have to work the next day, so he slept in a little bit. When he finally walked down to the kitchen, Taylor was sitting at the island, flipping through a magazine. She looked up when he walked in, with a smile that lit up her whole face. "Hey, sleepyhead," she said.

He smirked as he walked around to where she was sitting and gave her a hug. "Hey, Tay. What's going on today?"

She shrugged. "Not much." She smiled again, one of those smiles that always got him wrapped around her finger. "But now that you're here, I'm thinking maybe you'd like to take me for brunch?"

He grinned. "That sounds like a great idea," he said. "You got someplace you'd like to go?"

She nodded. "How about First Watch?"

He slapped his hand on the counter. "Let's go!" He waited for her to get up and then followed her to the door, picking up his keys, wallet and phone.

* * *

They were sitting in a booth, poring over the menu. The server came to get their order and then took their menus and walked back to the kitchen. Taylor spent time fixing her coffee the way she liked it, not really looking at him. He leaned over the table, trying to catch her eye. "You okay, sweetie?" he asked, and she looked up at him. She didn't look upset, just thoughtful. He wondered if something was going on in her life and she wanted advice or just someone to listen.

He loved all his kids equally, but they all had their own separate place in his heart. Addie, because she was a cancer survivor, was special. Everything she did seemed like an accomplishment, a validation that she had beaten leukemia. Chase was who he watched sports with, ran with, and, now that he was grown, was someone who was bright and knowledgeable and who he enjoyed talking with about major events and the world at large. Taylor, though, as his firstborn, was probably the most like him, with her interest in music and her creativity. He was proud of what she was doing with her music and he liked listening to what she was writing and talking songwriting and the craft of making music.

She sighed. "You seemed pretty upset last night," she said. "Like it really was close to home." He wondered where she was going with this. "And I could see that it was more than just acting on screen. Those emotions seemed real."

He reminded himself to breathe. "Well, the emotions _were_ real, Taylor. For everyone. I mean, Connie's been there from the beginning. She's the heart of the show. Or was, I guess. It's been tough not having her there." He paused. "For everybody." He wanted to be sure to clarify

Just then the server came with their food and they waited until she'd left the table before Taylor breathed out, looking a little uncomfortable. He steeled himself for whatever was coming. "So what does it mean for you?" she asked.

He breathed in. "Well, I think they're gonna play with the idea of Deacon moving on…."

She shook her head. "I don't mean Deacon. I mean _you_."

He raised his eyebrows. "Um, I don't know…." He wondered if Patty had been talking to her. And Chase and Addie. He could feel his heart pounding.

Taylor looked thoughtful. "I know you love the show. I know you love being here and all the music. But I think with Connie gone, maybe, I don't know, it doesn't mean the same thing anymore?" She looked at him intently.

He felt his mouth get dry. "I don't really understand what you mean."

"I think you should be happy, Dad. You haven't been in a long time."

He frowned. "Why would you say that?"

She shrugged and gave him a tiny smile. "Because it's true," she said, with a little shrug. She picked up her avocado toast. "So I was hoping you might have some time over the weekend to listen to something I've been working on." Then she smiled and bit into the toast.

He felt a little like he'd just been bounced back and forth across a net. Taylor had always seemed to see things below the surface and this was the second time she'd given him a little nudge, as though she could see through the façade he and Patty put up. He was going to have to think about that. He forced a smile on his face, to hide his discomfort. "Sure, sweetheart," he said. "Anytime."

* * *

He was feeling content. Connie's head was on his shoulder. He had one hand on her upper arm and his other hand on the back of her head. She had her hand pressed against his chest, occasionally bending her fingers and scratching him gently. One of her legs was between his. He breathed in and she turned her head to look up at him. "You okay?" she asked.

He smiled. "I'm with you. How could I not be?"

She kissed him on the chest. "You seem distracted."

He sighed. "Taylor said something to me the other day that just, well, I guess it was sort of unsettling."

She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. He wished he hadn't said anything. He wanted her back right where she'd been. "You want to tell me?" She was always respectful of his complicated family situation and didn't stray there on her own.

He thought about that. He wasn't sure he wanted her to worry, but he also kind of needed to talk about it a minute, and she was the only one he could do that with. He breathed in and then looked at her. Her brow was furrowed just a bit, as though she was worried about him. "She started talking to me about, I guess, how I was feeling about the last episode and talking about how it all seemed really real on screen." She let her fingers lightly dance over the skin on his chest and he knew she was just waiting, probably a little apprehensively. "She asked what it meant for me and I decided I'd focus on Deacon, because I really thought that's what she was asking but I also thought there might be more to it and I didn't want it to be."

She nodded slightly. "But there was, I take it."

He sighed. "Yeah." He put his hand over hers, stilling her nervous fingers. "She thought that you being gone maybe made it not feel the same anymore." He swallowed. "Which is true. But then she said she wanted me to be happy. And it was obvious she meant me personally."

She widened her eyes a bit. "She's your daughter. I'm sure it matters to her."

"But the implication. She even said she thought it had been a long time since I was." He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, he saw concern in her eyes. "It's like she knows," he said.

She ran her tongue over her upper lip. "You don't know that for sure."

He shook his head. "No, I don't. But she senses something. And if she does, who's to say Chase and Addie don't. It makes me wonder if I haven't played all this wrong."

She frowned a little. "What do you mean?"

He moved his hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Maybe I shouldn't have stayed. Maybe I should have come clean a long time ago." He felt unexpectedly emotional. "Maybe I haven't done right by you. Making you wait." He could feel the tears in his eyes and watched as her frown turned to empathy.

She leaned over and kissed him. Then she turned her body so that she was half-laying on him, as she tugged at his bottom lip. He opened his mouth, kissing her as fervently as she was him. He reached up, threading her hair with his fingers, then shifting slightly so that they were tight against each other. He knew she could feel him getting aroused by listening to her quiet murmurings. She moved her hips over him and he was almost instantly hard.

He pulled his lips from hers. "Baby," he whispered, nudging at her, trying to get her to roll over. But she pushed him back onto his back instead and then straddled him, taking him in fully until he felt like he had completely filled her up. He groaned. She held herself up over him with her hands and captured his gaze with her own, as she moved her hips up and down, clenching him as she did in that way that drove him wild, until he could feel himself reaching the edge. Her hair draped over them like a curtain and every time he felt it brush against his skin he felt like his nerve endings were on fire. He reached up and put his hands over her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. She moaned appreciatively, quickening her movements. He was breathing hard, getting this amazing view of her breasts hovering over him. He looked up into her eyes and saw that they were dark with desire. He knew she wasn't going to last much longer, and neither was he, so he moved one hand down between them, pressing against her with his thumb, and then she moaned out loud and called out his name. As he felt her tighten around him, he let go. "Ah, fuck, Connie," he murmured, as she slowly let herself relax on top of him. He put his arms around her waist and held her, feeling her heart beat against his. _God, I love her._


	25. Chapter 25

He felt as miserable watching the next episode as he had when they'd filmed it. He really hadn't wanted to watch it. Oddly enough, it felt even more heartbreaking than the one before, which was due, he guessed, to the fact that Connie wasn't in this one. Would never be again. Just like before, Taylor and Addie sat on either side of him, Patty in a club chair apart from them.

The opening scene was the actual funeral. He still remembered how unbelievably cold and wet he'd felt that day. _It's like the weather can read our hearts._ That's what Judith had said to him, as they waited for the scene to be set up. He remembered glancing down at her and nodding. The pain in his chest was almost suffocating at that point. He'd missed Connie so much. The tears in his eyes had been real.

He was afraid to say anything as the show started, fighting hard to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He wondered if Connie had decided to watch after all. She continued to say she probably wouldn't. _I don't think I can, Chip. I really feel like I need to make a clean break, just go forward._ He'd felt pissed about that, although he refrained from telling her. He had definitely learned to hide the piss, because all that did was start a fight.

When they got to the scene where Scarlett found the guitar pick in Deacon's hand, he heard Addie sniffling. He put his arm around her, holding her close against his side. She swiped at her eyes and then took a deep breath. "You look so devastated," she said softly, during the commercials.

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and nodded. "Deacon _was_ ," he said. She looked up at him and he gave her a little smile. "We all were. It was a hard episode to do." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Patty's face harden and her lips thin out. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest, looking like she was closing herself off.

Addie sighed, a long, drawn out sound. "I'm sure you miss having her there," she said. At that, Patty got up abruptly and walked into the kitchen. Both Addie and Taylor watched her. Taylor had a frown on her face and she flicked her eyes up at him, with an expression he couldn't decipher.

He pulled Addie closer. "We all do, sweetie," he said. "We all do."

* * *

As soon as the episode was over, he abruptly got up and walked out onto the back porch. He'd sat through the whole episode with a heaviness in his heart like a crushing weight. He couldn't hold the tears back anymore and he didn't want anyone to see them. He leaned against the rail, propping himself with his hands, wrapped tightly around the edge. He was breathing hard, choking down sobs he didn't want anyone to hear. The tears slid down his face. It was a crisp night, with a light wind, and he could feel the cold through his shirt down to his bones, as he concentrated on his breathing. Finally he took one deep breath, letting it out in a shaky rush. He closed his eyes, lifting his face slightly to the dark, feeling the breeze on his skin.

He didn't know how long he'd been out there, but he heard the door open and angry footsteps. He looked over and saw Patty, wrapped up in a heavy sweater, an angry scowl on her face, and something in her hand. As she walked briskly over to him, his heart sank as he realized she had his phone in her hand. Normally he would never leave a room without being sure he had it. But in his hurry to get outside, he'd forgotten.

She came up right next to him and held the phone up, touching it with her finger to bring up the lock screen. There it was, almost as though it was written in neon. _Hey. U okay? Call me when u get a chance._ He couldn't breathe, he couldn't swallow. He reached out and took the phone from her, jamming it into his pocket, just waiting. "I guess you need to call her and tell her you're clearly not okay," she said, her voice brittle as glass, and lethal.

He looked at her and could see she was furious. "You don't know who it is," he said, mulishly, knowing that was definitely not true.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Chip. I'm not an idiot. You've been mooning after her since we've been here. Before that too, right?" He didn't say anything. She breathed in, then made an angry noise. "Have you ever once thought about what you're doing to us? To me? To our kids? All this sneaking around, making me cover for you…."

"No one asked you to do that," he said angrily.

"No? So you'd have been okay if I'd just turned a blind eye? Let you blow up everything you've worked hard for? Disappointed your fans? Am I just supposed to sit back and let you have an… _affair_ , without keeping things locked down?"

He leaned slightly towards her. "I am _not_ having an affair." It's what he always told himself. It wasn't an affair, because that made Connie look cheap, which she was not. It was a _relationship_. It was a relationship with the love of his life.

She barked out a bitter laugh. "I don't know what else you'd call it. You can't put this out there in front of our kids. They're all old enough to understand things. If you're not careful, they're going to wonder what you're doing. You're their father, after all, and you're chasing after some other woman…for whatever it is you want to call it."

He looked back out into the darkness. "I'm still here, Patty. I don't know what you want me to do different." He turned back to look at her. "I could have left a long time ago," he said, his voice low and measured.

She narrowed her eyes. "When would you have done that?"

"A long time ago." He enunciated each word. He waved his finger between the two of them. "You know this changed. _We_ changed. Long before I got this job."

She didn't say anything right away. Then she said, "You couldn't do all the things you do now if I wasn't around. Scheduling shows, events, getting merchandise, putting together everything we do for Light the Night, your singles."

"I'm sure I could have gotten someone to do all those things. But I _have_ told you that's been important to me. And that I appreciate what you've done." He sighed. "Are you happy, Patty? I mean, really happy? You don't seem like it."

She turned around and ultimately never answered his question. "Why do you stay?" she asked, her voice small and defeated.

He breathed in, then sighed. "Taylor, Chase, and Addie," he said. Her back stiffened and she crossed her arms, gripping her arms with her hands. "Do you want me to go?" he asked quietly, not in a challenging way, understanding all of their shared history and not exactly knowing what she really wanted.

"I don't know," she murmured quietly. "I really don't know." Then she walked back into the house.

* * *

When he went back in the house later, the downstairs was dark, the only light coming from the one over the range. He stood by the island and listened for any sound, but he heard none. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, clasping his hands together. He didn't feel good about the argument he and Patty had had. He knew there were things that needed to be said between them, but more often than not, she wanted to avoid them. And, quite honestly, he did too. He just wanted to get to the end, whatever and whenever that turned out to be, and make the break. It wouldn't be easy – he wasn't deluding himself about that – but it had been a heavy load to carry.

He stood up, rubbing his hands over his face, then breathed in deeply. He walked over and pulled on a jacket, then picked up his keys and walked out the back door.

* * *

He approached the high school and turned in. He drove into the teachers' parking lot and put the car in park. He pulled out his phone and found her number. "Hey, babe," she said when she picked up. "I was getting a little worried."

He smiled, glad to hear her voice, but feeling drained. "Sorry. Just didn't have a chance before." He sighed. "She saw your text."

"Oh, no." There was concern in her voice and maybe a little apprehension. He leaned his head back against the headrest and ran his hand over his head. "Was it…uncomfortable?"

He let out a short laugh. "Oh, you could say that." He sighed. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, Connie."

She was quiet. "Where are you?" she asked, finally.

"Parked at the high school."

"You want to stop by?"

He breathed in. "Yeah."

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

She was at the door when he got there. She took his hand and led him into the house, closing the door behind them. Then he took her in his arms and just held her, breathing in her scent, feeling how she just fit perfectly in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest, one hand running up and down his back in a soothing motion. He took a deep breath, then kissed the top of her head and stepped back out of the embrace.

She took his hand again. "Let's sit." He followed her into the den. He sat at the end of the couch, pulling her into his arms. She looked up at him. "So. What happened?"

He sighed. "I said I could have left, a long time ago. Well, after she accused me of having an affair."

She looked away. "I know you don't like hearing it, but truthfully, that's what it is." He frowned. She looked back at him sharply and held up her hand, as though she knew he was ready to push back. "I know, I know. It's a _relationship_ – and it is – but it's also behind closed doors. And in secret. And you know that's the truth. It's not what we would want, but…." Her voice trailed off.

She was right – he hated calling it an affair – but she was also right that it wasn't what they wanted. "I told her she could tell me to leave." He sighed. "But she didn't. She pushed it aside."

She turned then to face him, taking his hands in hers. She had a sad, resigned look in her eyes that worried him a bit. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "I want to ask you something and I really want you to think about it," she said. "No knee jerk answer. You don't even have to answer me now. Just really think about it."

"Okay," he said, not sure what to expect.

She squeezed his hands. "Is this really worth all the pain? All the hiding and worrying, having to be careful?" He started to say something and she put two fingers over his lips. "Would it be easier if, when I go back to LA, or even now, that we let things go? Maybe not forever, but for now?"

He knew his answer, but he would consider what she was asking. "Is that what you want?"

She gave him a tiny smile. "I'm asking _you_ , Chip. You have your kids – your _family_ – to consider."

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed the backs of both of them. Then he looked in her eyes. "Yes, it would be easier." He couldn't tell what she was thinking right then. It almost seemed like she was holding her breath. "But to let you go, even for a minute, I mean, I just can't _do_ that. Unless you tell me that's what you want." He held her gaze.

She breathed in and then seemed to relax. "I feel like I _should_ let you go, at least for a while. It's gonna be hard, once I leave, for both of us. You don't know how long the show will go on, how long you'll be here. Things could change." He felt a knot in his stomach. "But I can't even imagine it. I just don't want to complicate your…."

He didn't let her finish, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hungrily. He couldn't even contemplate trying to get through every day without her, even if she _was_ just on the other end of a phone or a text. He leaned his forehead against hers. "I can't imagine it either. But we'll still talk and text. And see each other whenever we can." He gave her a smile. "I told you back in the beginning that this was all worth it, worth everything we'd go through. It still is."

She pulled back slightly, lifting her hands to his face. Then she smiled and nodded. "I wouldn't want you to leave me, but I would have understood. I guess I was just afraid that maybe, you know." She shrugged one shoulder and made a little face.

He breathed in. "That I would take you up on your offer?" She nodded. "Not a chance, baby. Not a chance in hell." He leaned back in and kissed her again as she fell into his arms.

* * *

He felt better when he drove home. Talking to her had re-centered him, made him feel like they were solid, and that he could hang in for however long he had to. In his mind, that would be after Addie went to college, no matter what happened with the show. They could handle it, as long as they needed to.

* * *

When he came in from his run, Patty was in the dining room, sitting at the table. He went and stood at the door and she looked up. "Hey," she said. "I'm working on the next few songs. Let me show you what I was thinking." He walked in the room and stood behind her. What she normally did was to plot out at least three songs out, sometimes more. In his mind, this should be _his_ choice. They were _his_ songs and _his_ project, so it sometimes annoyed him when she went ahead and made choices. He had come up with the idea of putting out a single every week, one she thought didn't make as much sense as an album or an EP. Turned out it had been a big hit with his fans, the ones who knew his music and made a lot of noise on social media, trying to either figure out what he would release next or throw out suggestions. He always had a loose plan, but typically what was going on around him, and in his life, determined what he wanted to release.

'So I Cry' was coming out that week. He'd picked it because Connie was leaving for New York and it said what he was feeling – that nothing seemed right with her gone. It suited his mood. Patty had a place card for 'A Lotta Shouldn't Oughta' next, which they'd tentatively agreed to. They had the artwork and the studio recording done. It was an upbeat number, one he didn't perform too often, but one he liked to play. But he'd changed his mind. Somehow it didn't feel right. He pointed and shook his head. "Not that one," he said. "Not yet."

She put her hands in her lap. "Which one then?" He could see the tightness of her shoulders. She'd never really liked what she considered to be a last minute change.

"'Whiskey Lips'," he said. He'd been wanting to put that one out. It was a favorite, both of his and his fans. He always introduced it by implying it was about Rayna, plus it was a jam and fun to perform. That it was also for Connie made it all the sweeter. Patty had grown to hate the song and badgered him about saying it was for Connie, although he always reminded her it was Rayna. She no longer seemed to differentiate between Connie and her character. So he waited for her reaction.

"Any particular reason?" she asked.

"No particular reason. It's just time. Past time, probably." He then leaned over her shoulder and pushed the place card for 'A Lotta Shouldn't Oughta' back, moving 'Whiskey Lips' in its place. It felt a little like a chess match, as he then changed the next two as well. He slid in 'Dancing All Around It' and then moved 'A Lotta Shouldn't Oughta' behind that.

She made an irritated noise. She hated 'Dancing All Around It' too. She knew it was about their relationship and it always put her in a bad mood when he performed it. "You haven't even done a studio recording for it," she said.

He shrugged. "Then book the time. I've got some days early next week when you can do that." He turned to walk out of the dining room then stopped and turned back. "My idea for a cover is a couple dancing at their reception."

She looked at him with a frown, then asked something that seemed to come out of left field. "So, how familiar are you with Bristen?" she asked, an edge to her voice.

He was confused. "What? I don't even know what a bristen is."

She gave him an odd look. "Really? Well, it's one of those mash up names." He was still confused. "Her last name. And yours." She paused. "Bristen."

He still didn't quite understand, but he could tell from the way Patty brought it up, that it wouldn't be something he'd like. He hoped Connie never heard that or he was sure she'd be spooked. "Okay," he said, feigning a nonchalance he didn't really feel. "So what does it _mean_?

"It means you talk too much about her or about her character. It makes people believe there's something going on, because you won't stop talking about her." She narrowed her eyes. "How do you imagine it makes me feel to hear that?"

Truthfully, he did not want this playing out in social media, but he had no idea how he would possibly stop something like that. He considered that if Patty saw it, then his kids might as well. And Connie, although, thankfully, she was more dismissive of social media than most celebrities. There was a certain amount of misinformation every actor in the spotlight had to deal with. The decision point was whether to address it or not. He had not had much experience with it, until the show. And getting the role of Deacon. He looked at Patty. "Not good, I would guess. And I am actually sorry about that."

As he turned to walk out of the dining room, he knew he had some 'beautiful wife' social media posts he needed to make, both to appease her and to take the heat off him and Connie.

* * *

He would text Connie when he was on set and she would let him know when she was free to talk. They had promised to try talking every day, but it had been difficult to do that. But this time when he texted, her response was _Call me_. So he did.

"I guess you must have some downtime today," he said when she answered. He could feel the smile on his face.

She laughed. "A little. Thankfully I don't have any scenes until after lunch today, so I actually slept in a bit. I was glad I got your text. Are you at work?"

"I am." He paused. "Saw your post on the 100th episode." They had just broadcast the episode. "Did you watch?" He thought she probably hadn't. He'd told her about it when they were filming, including his thoughts about what it meant for Deacon's future. She'd been surprisingly passionate about Deacon moving on at the time.

" _I think one of the new female characters is going to turn into Deacon's next girlfriend," he said._

 _She raised her eyebrows and her eyes were flashing. "What?" she asked, an angry edge to her voice._

 _He shrugged. "I guess it's time for Deacon to move on." He wasn't thrilled with it, but he'd never been one to push back on storylines, the way Connie did._

" _Well, that's just ridiculous," she said. He could see she was fuming. "Clearly they think you can't be a character on your own. They can't even let the man grieve? I mean, this was the love of his life, the woman he waited for all those years. He was never able to move on before. So why would this be any different? Why less than six months after his wife dies? That's crazy."_

 _He wanted to remind her that, if she cared that much, she didn't have to quit, but he knew she wouldn't be pleased if he did. "It feels too soon to me too," he said. "The actress is okay, but it just doesn't feel like he'd be anywhere close to ready."_

 _She got up and started to pace, throwing her arms out dramatically. "What in the hell are they even thinking?"_

"No. No time." She paused. "I'm really trying to set it aside, Chip. You know that. I know it bothers you, but it's just necessary. For me."

He did know that. They'd talked about it several times. She rarely watched anyway, but it was her way of drawing a line in the sand, establishing that break. "I get it," he said. The episode had featured the new character of Jessie, the one, it appeared, would be Deacon's new love interest. He didn't like it and not just because it meant Rayna was well and truly gone. He agreed with Connie - it just didn't seem like Deacon would be ready for someone else. It felt wrong to him. It was too soon – it would take Deacon a long time to get over Rayna, that he knew for sure – and it felt forced. Like Deacon couldn't exist without being paired up. He shook his head.

"You know what I was thinking about last night?" Connie's voice pulled him back to the present.

"What?"

She sighed, but it had a happy sound to it. "When we first got together," she said, her voice soft.

He smiled. "Really? What made you think about that?"

"I don't know. I think I've missed you, for one thing." She laughed that husky laugh. "I know I haven't been gone that long, but, you know, I'm here by myself" – Yoby had stayed behind because of school – "and I was feeling a little lonely." She sighed again, but this time it sounded wistful. "I miss that time. When we could be together whenever we wanted." He could hear the sadness in her voice. "I guess it's just the idea that it was new and exciting and magical. And it still is wonderful, but these last several years, we've had to, you know, be so careful. _More_ careful."

"I know," he said.

"I want us to be together all the time, Chip. I hate the waiting."

He breathed in. "You want me to leave now?" He would, if she really wanted it, if it was now or never.

She was silent for a moment. "No. I mean, yes, I do, but I don't think it's the right time for you."

"Anytime can be the right time, baby, if it's what you want. I hate the waiting too."

"You need to do what you committed to in the beginning, Chip. We'll make it work until then." She paused. "I'll wait for you. You're worth the wait, you know." He could picture her smile.

"You're more than worth the wait, Connie. You know that too."

After they got off the phone, he couldn't help but feel a little melancholy. It was more than a year until Addie graduated. That had long been his marker, although it had been hard on both of them. And a lot could happen in a year. Connie would have been back in LA for a year, back with her friends and all the familiar parts of her life, the place she she escaped to every hiatus and considered to be home. He was more than grateful that she had not immediately left Nashville, even though she certainly was traveling more. Weekend trips with friends, speaking at events around the country, putting more time into her passion projects.

He sighed, as he slid his phone into his pocket. He headed back across the set and, for the very first time, found himself thinking he wouldn't be unhappy if the show ended sooner rather than later.

* * *

Connie had gotten back from New York two nights before. She'd only been gone a little over a week but he'd still really missed her. He'd kept busy while she was gone, working on his music, getting in the studio to record some more of his Every Single Friday singles. He was sitting on the back porch with his guitar, working on some lyrics for another song he'd been working on with a couple new cowriters. The sun was low in the sky but it wasn't quite dark. It was peaceful and quiet in the neighborhood. It was still cool, but not uncomfortably so. He stopped for a moment, leaning back in his chair. He thought about the afternoon he'd spent with Connie and smiled to himself.

 _His phone was in his pocket and he could feel it vibrate as he was out walking Blue. He pulled it out and saw that it was a text from Connie._ I'm home! _He smiled and opened up his phone to call her. "Welcome home," he said when she answered. "How was it?"_

" _Oh, wow, Chip, it was fantastic," she said, sounding excited. "But it was also super cold and icy and there was snow on the ground." She laughed her husky laugh. "Too much for this southern California girl."_

 _He laughed with her. "Too bad I wasn't there to keep you warm," he said._

" _I know. I thought about that every night when I got into bed." She sighed. "I missed you. A lot. Could you get away tomorrow, do you think?"_

 _He thought quickly. "I might have a writing appointment."_

" _Oh…" she sounded disappointed._

 _He chuckled. "No, silly, that's my cover."_

" _Oh. Well, I like the sound of that then." He could hear the happiness in her voice. "When is this 'appointment'?" He pictured the grin on her face._

" _Maybe right after lunch?"_

" _I think that sounds like the exact perfect time." She paused. "I can't wait to see you, babe. Love you."_

 _He smiled. "Love you too. I'll see you tomorrow."_

* * *

 _He jogged up the steps and knocked on Connie's door. When she opened it, she had a huge grin on her face. She stepped into his arms and he kissed her, closing the door behind him. He ran his hands up and down her back and she pressed hers against his ass. Then she looked up at him, a wicked grin on her face. "I can feel that you missed me," she said._

 _He slid his hands down over her ass and pressed her tightly against him, smiling down at her. "You like how that feels, do you?" he murmured._

" _Oh, yes, I do. But it would feel better inside me, in my bed."_

 _He pretended to think about that. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he mused._

 _She laughed. "Well, let's get you and your magic wand upstairs then," she said, reaching for his hand and pulling him towards the stairs. He followed her, laughing as they hurried up the stairs and into her room._

* * *

He could still feel her skin, how soft it was, how good it felt against his body. He could feel her hands on his face, his arms, his back. He thought about how her hair felt as he fisted it while he kissed her. He'd kissed her from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes, lingering in all her soft spots, touching her with his tongue while she moaned in pleasure. He brought her tantalizingly close to orgasm with his mouth and his fingers, as she begged him to make love to her. He loved when she begged, not because he wanted power over her, but because it filled him up with the idea that she loved him and just wanted to have that intense intimacy with him and only him.

 _He gave her everything she asked for and some that she hadn't and she had murmured "Oh yes!" more times than he could recall. Then finally, when he sensed she couldn't last any longer, he sat up, pulling her onto his lap. She wound her legs around him as he balanced her on his crossed legs. She slid her arms under his and then grabbed his shoulders and he moved his hands to the small of her back. He moved into her slowly, making small movements inside her, allowing them both to feel the intense quivers of excitement. He nestled his face against her neck, placing tiny kisses behind her ear down to her shoulder. She tried to move faster, but he captured her hips in his hands and prevented her from making anything but the tiniest of moves._

 _Finally she whispered against his shoulder. "I need to come, Chip. Please."_

 _He lifted one hand and ran it down over her hair, finding her lips and kissing her deeply, while holding her still. Then he looked at her, her eyes dark and sensuous. "You do?" he asked softly._

 _She gave him a tiny smile and nodded. Her lips were slightly parted and she was nearly whimpering. She bit down on her bottom lip and he slid his hands down to her ass again, then thrust himself into her, once, twice, and let himself go just as she cried out with release. He held her tight as she buried her face in his neck. Then he could feel her relax, her body seeming to sink into his and he just let himself cling to her as they both breathed heavily against each other._

 _She wrapped her arms around his neck and let out one last long sigh. "Wow," she whispered._

 _He chuckled softly, loving the feel of her breasts against his chest. "Wow, indeed," he whispered back. "I'm so glad you're back."_

 _Finally she moved off his lap and they both laid back on the bed as he spooned her from behind. "And I'm so glad you're here," she said softly._

The one thing he was most conscious of was the fact that the date Connie would leave for LA was approaching fast. Faster than he wanted. There was a cast tour scheduled to start in June over in the UK. He was excited about it, but the timing could not have been worse. The tour started June 9th, before Connie and Yoby left, and they would be gone by the time he returned to Nashville. The last time he'd be able to see her was June 6th. The wrap party was on the 4th, then he was hosting the CMT awards on the 7th and then they would be leaving for the UK the next day. It was just too soon.

He needed to figure out how to spend as much time with her as he could before she left.


	26. Chapter 26

He stopped by Connie's house on the way to work. She greeted him with a deeply passionate kiss as she wound her arms around his neck and arched her body into his. He put his hands on her waist and held her tight. When she let him go, she smiled up at him. "It's just been too long," she said, with a laugh.

It had. Either he was working or Patty had something scheduled for him. He and Connie had texted and called each other, with just one quick hook up over a week earlier. They'd had to settle for what he thought of as a fast and dirty fuck in her kitchen. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as an afternoon in her bed, lying naked together and pleasuring each other. He shook his head. "I gotta figure something out. This is driving me insane." He frowned.

She flattened her palms against his chest as he settled his hands on her hips. "So how much time do you have?" she asked.

He smiled then. "All afternoon."

She held up one finger. "Well, until I need to pick up Yoby," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah, until you need to pick up Yoby." He breathed in as he looked at her face. She was smiling and her skin seemed to glow. She had that sparkly look in her eyes that told him how much she loved him. Her teeth gently bit down on her lower lip. And all he could think about was how soft her skin would feel, how sweet she would smell. He had the sensation of feeling himself inside her and thought about how warm and tight she would be around him. He made an unconscious noise in the back of his throat and he felt himself get hard.

She had an impish look in her eyes. She dropped her hand down between them and brushed him ever so gently. She liked to tease and he liked her to tease, but what he really wanted to do was make love to her. She brushed her hand against him again and he could feel himself straining against his jeans. He grabbed her wrist. "Don't you like me touching you?" she asked, her eyes all innocent now.

"You're not touching me," he growled. "You're teasing."

She laughed softly and then put her other hand between his legs. "Now I'm touching," she said as she let her hand settle over him. He was sure he was going to come right then and there. He sucked in his breath.

"I can't wait," he said, hearing how thick his voice sounded.

She turned towards the stairs then and he let his hand drift from her wrist and his fingers threaded hers. "Let's go," she said, looking back at him over his shoulder.

They raced up the stairs to her bedroom and quickly undressed. She stood at the edge of the bed, as he stood in front of her. She smiled. "You really _are_ ready for me, aren't you?" she asked, a teasing tone to her voice. She reached out and wrapped her hands around him. Even though her hands were cool, he felt like he was on fire. She slowly slid her hands up from the base of his shaft, towards his tip. Suddenly he knew he was on the edge and needed to be inside her.

He stepped forward and gently pushed her back on the bed, then pushed her legs open with his knee and drove into her roughly. She gasped and her eyes widened just a bit, but he couldn't stop. He thrust in and out once, then twice, and suddenly came explosively. He shouted out her name, then collapsed on top of her. After a moment, he stroked her cheek with his hand and turned his face towards hers. "I'm sorry," he said.

She shook her head. "Don't be." She smiled shyly. "It's kind of a turn on to see how much you want me."

He took her mouth with his as he slid out of her. Then he pushed two fingers inside her, continuing to kiss her as he touched her in those places that she loved. She lifted her hips and pressed against his hand. He swirled his fingers inside her and she moaned back in her throat. He slid his fingers in and out, tantalizing her, until she was moaning with her need. She moved her mouth from his and began whispering his name. He got off the bed and down on his knees in front of her. He replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue, pushing her legs farther apart. She was writhing against him as he flicked her with his tongue, then sucked on her. She reached her hands down and tangled her fingers in his hair. He pushed his tongue farther inside her and then she tightened her grip on his hair and came, making little mewling noises as she did.

He sat back on his heels, then pushed up. She was like a limp noodle as he moved her across the bed and then lay next to her, on his side. She was still breathing heavily and he watched her breasts rise and fall. He cupped her right breast, running his thumb over her nipple and she sucked in her breath and then opened her eyes to look at him. He smiled. "It's kind of a turn on to see how much _you_ want _me_ ," he said. She laughed and then turned on her side and kissed him.

"I love you so much," she said, her voice sounding breathy. She trailed a finger down his arm. "Just hearing your voice makes me feel, oh, I don't know, happy. Joyful. Loved."

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You definitely are loved," he said, taking in her face, lightly flushed.

She moved her fingers to drum them on his chest and then looked at him shyly. "I love the things you do to me," she murmured.

He smiled. "I love doing them _to_ you", he said and she blushed. He smirked. "So did that give you fireworks in your lady parts?"

She laughed. "You don't even know how much," she said, as she bit her lip gently. "Sex with you is the best sex I've ever had. And I know that's not all we're about, but I _do_ love the places you take me." She looked at him thoughtfully. "What are you thinking about?

He brushed his thumb against her cheek. "The first time I met you," he said softly.

She smiled, that sweet, innocent smile she had. "Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He nodded, closed his eyes for a moment, then looked back at her. "I was so in awe of you," he said. "All I wanted was to not screw it up, not just be a piece of crap. This was my big break and it was with you, of all people."

She screwed up her face and shook her head. "I'm not that big a deal," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, you _are_ that big a deal." She blushed a little. "But you were also so down to earth. Regular. I remember you just wanted us to talk, get to know each other. And I hoped I'd get better as an actor from listening to you, because I knew that's what you needed from me." He breathed in. "I wondered, back then, if you felt the same things I did. I mean, you were gorgeous. And funny. And kind. And so beyond me. I had to wonder a little if it was just me, because it had been so long since I'd had that kind of relationship, but when you put your hand on my arm or my knee, when we talked, it just felt…electric, I guess."

She smiled. "I was so attracted to you then, but, well, you know," – she looked away for a second – "I thought…well, you know what I thought. I didn't know, then, how things were, so I guess I just felt like I needed to get a hold of myself" – she laughed a little – "and get back to being professional." She gave him a crooked smile. "But we know how _that_ went."

He put his hand on the side of her face, letting his fingers graze the back of her ear. Then he leaned in and kissed her. "Yeah, we do." He shifted a little. "And now here we are."

She slid over a little closer to him and then looked at him, her eyes twinkling. She rubbed herself against him and he groaned just a little. He was ready to make love to her again, but this time he would take it slow, make it last, make her feel well and truly loved. He slid his arm around her waist and rolled her on her back, settling himself on top of her. He smiled. "Yes. Now here we are." He nudged her legs open and then sank into her, as she welcomed him fully.

* * *

It was an unusually muggy Saturday in early May. He had a little bit of freedom that day – Patty was on a soccer trip with Addie – so he decided to take advantage of the opportunity. He called Connie and waited for her to answer. He frowned when he got her voice mail but left her a message to call him. He would be leaving for the cast tour in three weeks and she was starting to pack up her life in Nashville, ready to head back to LA and the possibilities there. That creative challenge she was looking for. As the end grew closer, he felt both sad and angry. He was trying to keep it under control, trying not to focus too much on how fast the time they had left was going.

He decided that, rather than sitting in the house, he'd go for a run along the river. He changed into shorts and a t-shirt, then slipped on his running shoes. When he walked back into the kitchen, Blue jumped up and started to dance around in anticipation. He smiled at the dog. "You wanna go run, buddy?" he asked. Blue barked his answer. He laughed and reached for the leash, attaching it to Blue's collar. Then he put a hat on, picked up his keys and phone, and headed out the door.

* * *

He had a good long run under the shade of the trees. The heaviness in the air made him breathe hard and had cut the run short. He was damp with sweat. Just then his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled when he saw it was Connie. He raised the phone to his ear. "Hey, you," he said.

She laughed softly. "Hey yourself. Sorry I missed your call. What's going on?"

"I'm all alone. And missing you."

"Seriously?"

He grinned. "Yep." He paused. "I'm at the river trail."

"I'd have to bring Yoby. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely," he said. "I'm always happy to see Yoby. Blue will be happy to see him too."

"Oh, you have Blue?"

"Decided to go for a run and he was agreeable to it." She laughed on her end. "Can you come?"

"Of course. We'll be there shortly."

* * *

He was sitting down close to the river, holding onto Blue's leash. The dog was pretty good about staying close, but it made him feel better to hold the leash. He leaned his head back, the sun mostly obscured by the tree canopy overhead. The light breeze did nothing more than stir the muggy air. Unexpectedly, a snippet of a conversation he and Patty had had relatively recently invaded his thoughts, when she'd asked him about Bristen. He hadn't made the connection at all at first. He certainly wasn't oblivious to the fact that he and Connie had amazing chemistry on camera. He'd heard over and over about how they played the parts of two very deeply connected people, that most primal of relationships, really well. They made it believable. They had both always known that what was happening on set was enhanced by what happened off of it.

Maybe the fact that often days, even weeks, would go by where their primary interaction and their only physical interaction, was on set. Maybe if they had been together openly, they would never have been able to portray that deep yearning or make real the forces that were both keeping the characters apart yet drawing them together. He knew, of course, that every touch was real, every kiss was real, every look was real. He just wasn't sure what to think about the fact that people he didn't even know – fans – saw it. Of course, the fact that they would even imagine something like that meant that he and Connie made the relationship of Deacon and Rayna real. He had decided he wouldn't mention it to Connie, which was probably why it hadn't crossed his mind again until that moment.

Just then he heard the crunch of gravel, obviously someone running. Blue was immediately on his feet and started barking excitedly, jumping and straining at the leash. He turned and stood up, as Yoby came into view, running full steam ahead, a happy smile on his face.

"Chip! Chip!" he yelled. "Blue!" Blue was straining at the leash, so he let him go, knowing the dog would just bound over to Yoby and lick his face. As he watched his dog do just that, he looked further down the path, squinting in the sunlight.

"Where's your mom, Yobes?" he asked.

The little boy pointed down the trail. "She's a slowpoke," he said, a big smile on his face. "I told her to run but she said no." He was watching as Blue tried to pull Yoby down the path and Yoby was trying to dig in his heels to prevent it.

He walked over and took Blue's leash, then leaned over, holding up his palm. "High five, buddy," he said, with a grin.

"High five!" Yoby cried, lifting up his hand to smack his. He threw back his head and laughed.

At the crunching of gravel, he looked up and saw Connie walking down the path in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. She had a ball cap on and had pulled her hair into a ponytail and had a smile on her face. She walked right up to him and slid her arm around his waist and kissed him, something she usually didn't do in front of Yoby. She tugged at his lip and he opened his mouth to hers. It didn't last long and she took a step back, looking up at him. "Hey," she said.

"Hey." She looked so young and fresh. Her skin was lightly tanned, which made her freckles more prominent. And she had that smile on her face that he loved, where she looked like she was going to burst into raucous laughter. He ran his hand up her arm. "Glad you could come."

"Glad you asked us." They just stood looking at each other. He felt, right then, like they were the only two people in the world.

"Chip, can I take Blue down to the water?" Yoby's voice broke the moment. They both turned to look at him, standing there with his hand on Blue's back.

He nodded and then Connie said, "Don't go in, though, Yoby. And hold onto the leash so Blue doesn't run off."

"Okay, Mom," Yoby cried, and then he and Blue trotted down to the water's edge.

She took his hand and nodded towards her son and his dog. "Can we go closer? Just to keep an eye on them?"

He nodded and, threading their fingers together, they walked slowly down the path, occasionally bumping each other's shoulder. He was struck by the normalcy of it, the rightness of it. He breathed in deeply. "You started packing?" he asked, watching Yoby and Blue ahead of them.

"Some," she said. "It's still a little ways out."

He turned towards her. "It'll be here fast though."

She looked up at him. "I guess." She bumped his arm. "We're gonna come back for the eclipse."

He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" It was a big event, a total eclipse right there in Nashville, towards the end of August. TV stations were starting to hype it up and he felt sure it would be a circus of people in town for the big event.

She smiled and nodded. "It'll be a great thing for Yoby to see." She shrugged playfully. "So, see? We'll work out ways to see each other."

He smiled back at her, then lifted his face up to the sky for a second, closing his eyes. Then he lowered his head and laughed. "Just be sure to let me know when you're here."

"Oh, no worries on that." By then they had reached the end of the trail. Yoby was sitting on the shoreline and Blue was sitting next to him, both with their eyes on the water in front of them. She bumped him again. "He's really going to miss Blue," she whispered.

"Blue's gonna miss him too," he whispered back. He looked down at her. "So am I." He let her hand go then and they went to sit with Yoby and Blue.

* * *

Clearly they weren't even pretending anymore, in front of Yoby, that there was nothing going on between the two of them. Where, in the past, she'd been careful about too much touching or kissing so as not to create confusion, now it seemed she had relaxed about it. So there had been hand holding and gentle kisses and arms around each other. She and Yoby would be leaving Nashville soon and so, it seemed, being more open in front of him about the fact that there was a relationship was no longer as much of a concern.

They slowly walked up the path, holding hands. It struck him how mundane this was, feeling like they were any other family. It was a soothing, comforting feeling. As they approached the clearing where they were parked, he noticed she'd brought her Mustang and the top was down. He smiled, thinking how one day maybe the two of them would be driving around in that. He clicked open the car door and let Blue into the backseat, letting down the window before closing the door. He turned back to her and saw that Yoby was sitting in the back seat of the Mustang and the passenger door was open.

She closed the distance between the two of them, putting her arms around his waist. She looked up at him, squinting her eyes against the sunlight. "This was nice," she said. "I love days like this, when we're just together, like it's the most natural thing in the world."

He ran his hands up and down her upper arms. "It _is_ the most natural thing in the world," he said, with a smile.

Her smile widened. "You know what I mean. It's like, you know, like something we would be doing on a warm, sunny Saturday. Just our lives." He saw a sudden change in her eyes, a wistful, yearning look, and her smile faded a little. "I want that, Chip," she said, her voice soft and a little husky. "With all my heart, I want that."

He breathed in deeply and then kissed her, first gently, then a little more insistently, as she responded. When he pulled his lips from hers, he felt something that was almost like an ache. The day they didn't have to go home separately, the day they could have leisurely mornings, knowing the whole day was theirs, could not come fast enough. "I want it too," he whispered. As he gazed into her eyes, it felt like everything faded around them. He felt the warmth of the day, the tiniest of breezes, the rustle of the leaves in the trees, and the singing of the birds. And he just held on to her, wanting this to never end.

"Mooom," Yoby called out, breaking the mood.

He let go of her arms and she stepped back and they both laughed a little self-consciously. She turned towards her car. "I'm coming," she said. "Sorry, sweetie." She turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "Sorry to have to end this." She rubbed his arm. "Thanks for asking us."

He brushed her hair away from her face. "We'll do it as often as we can." She nodded. "I love you, Connie."

She put her hand on his chest. "I love you too." Then she rose up on her toes and tilted her head back slightly. He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, and then she sighed. "I'll see you soon. Talk to you tomorrow." He nodded and then she turned and headed for the car.

He followed behind her, opening the door for her and then closing it. He jogged around to the other side and closed the passenger door. Then he put his hands on the edge of the door and leaned forward. "Drive safe," he said to her. "And be good, Yobes," he said to Yoby.

Yoby grinned. "Can't promise," he said, with a raucous laugh. He and Connie laughed as well.

She had put on her sunglasses and turned back to face her son. "You better promise, young man," she said, trying to look stern and wagging a finger at him. But she was still smiling.

Yoby just laughed and then looked back at him. "See ya later, alligator!" he cried, lifting up his arm, palm out.

He gave the little boy a high five. "In a while, crocodile," he responded, and Yoby laughed gleefully. He pushed off the car then and looked back at Connie. "See you soon," he said. She nodded and then started the car. After another look over at him, she put the car in gear and headed out towards the road.

He stood, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched as she disappeared out of sight. He sighed deeply, then finally turned towards his car. Blue was hanging out of the window and when he headed for his car, Blue barked, as though he was telling him to hurry.

There was no reason to linger though. When she was here with him, it felt magical. Everything felt promising and right, and he never wanted to leave. Without her, though, it was just a place, and he was ready to go. He got in the car, punched the ignition, and then raised up the window. "Let's go, Blue," he said to the dog, and Blue barked his approval.

* * *

After dinner, he went out on the back porch with a bottle of bourbon and a glass. It wasn't completely dark yet, but he needed some alone time. The kids were all off with friends and Patty was working on something, he had no idea what and didn't much care. He'd just picked at his food and she had looked concerned, asking if he was sick. He'd said no, that it had just been a long day, but the truth was, he did kind of feel sick. Not the flu or cold kind of sick, but the heartsick kind of sick. They were about to wrap up the next to the last episode of the season and it had been a powerfully emotional one for Deacon. He had felt every bit of all that emotion and he was completely drained.

He poured himself a generous glass and took a swallow. Although this was good bourbon, there was still a sharp burn as the alcohol went down his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and winced, then coughed. The second swallow was smoother, the burn not so sharp, and he felt a warmth all the way to his gut. When he finished the first glass, he poured another. The sun dipped lower in the sky as he continued to drink.

The door to the porch opened, but he didn't turn. "What's going on?" she asked.

He still didn't look at her. "Just needed to be alone, to unwind," he replied, hoping she'd get the hint.

She was silent for a moment, then said, "Is it work or…something else?" Although they obviously hadn't discussed it, he was sure she realized Connie would be leaving Nashville soon.

He turned then to look at her. In the growing darkness, her face was mostly shadowed, so he wasn't sure what kind of expression she had or what she might be thinking. "I just wanted to be alone," he said, raising his voice slightly. He finished the glass of bourbon and poured another.

"Are you just going to sit out here and get drunk?" she asked, irritation in her voice.

He held the glass up in front of his face, then took another long swallow. He looked back at her. "I might." She turned around then and walked back in the house, slamming the door behind her.

He smiled a little, then downed the rest of the glass. He slumped down in the chair, starting to feel buzzed. He grabbed the bottle and poured another glass. Yeah, he was thinking he might just get drunk. Drunk enough to erase the events of that day. He took another swallow and then closed his eyes.

The scene was an outdoor scene. Deacon was struggling with the realities of running Rayna's business, dealing with his responsibilities as a dad, and missing his wife. He'd ended up in the woods, by a creek, in the Harpeth River State Park. It was pretty far out of town, but it was a place where he'd been. He'd been here with his kids. With Patty. It was far from the hidden trail that led to the place he always thought of as his and Connie's place, but he'd felt emotional all the same.

As he'd squatted down beside the river and gently placed his hand on the water, he'd tried to put himself in Deacon's shoes, mourning the love of his life, unable to get past the enormous knot of pain her loss had left him with. He'd had genuine tears, missing Connie in that moment, as though she was the one gone forever, leaving him behind to navigate life without her. In that place, like theirs and yet not, he'd felt alone, even though there were cameramen and crew everywhere. He felt the same ache in his heart that he'd felt while filming that scene. Even though it had been nearly six months since he'd filmed with Connie, it hadn't gotten easier to come to work and have her not be there. And she was leaving him for real now. Not forever, as she said, but it sometimes felt like it.

He sat back up and poured another glass of bourbon. The bottle was less than half full and he had that feeling like his blood was warm in his veins, giving him a sense of being weighted down almost. He had felt dizzy and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears bubbled up unexpectedly and he felt them slide down his cheek. When he tried to breathe in, it was like a sob. He sat up, leaning forward, his head spinning, wiping his face with his hands.

He reached in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He squinted at it, then punched the contacts list. He struggled at first with scrolling, but finally got it and found Connie's number. He punched it, hard, and then lifted it to his ear.

When she answered she sounded sleepy. "Chip? Is that you?"

He leaned back in the chair and cleared his throat. "Yep." He smiled. "Hey, baby."

"Chip, are you drunk?"

He started to shake his head, but that made him dizzy, so he stopped. He looked over at the bottle but in the dark he wasn't sure how much he'd had. "Don't think so," he said.

"What's going on?"

He instantly felt tears in his eyes. "I had a bad day, baby," he said, trying not to cry.

"What happened?"

He really wished he was in bed with her right now, just so she could hold him. "I had to go to the river," he said, swallowing hard. "Not our place, baby."

"Why did you have to go to the river?"

Her voice was so soothing to his ear. He could picture her, sitting up in bed, a concerned frown on her face, holding the phone tight against her ear. "Scene," he said. He realized, for the first time, how thick his voice sounded. He cleared his throat. "Deacon at the river."

"Was he happy or sad?"

He frowned. "Very sad. Not happy." He breathed in deeply, feeling a lump in the back of his throat. "I miss you, baby."

"I miss you, too, my love." She paused. "I don't want you to drink anymore tonight, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"Promise?"

He nodded again. "Yes."

"Do you have to work tomorrow?"

"Yep. Really late night at the Opry." He smiled a little. "I can get a room," he said.

"You don't need to do that. But what time do you go in?"

He tried to think. "I don't remember," he said, finally.

"Well, if you can, you know you can stop by before you go. If you want to talk."

"I wish I was in your bed right now, that's what I want to do."

She laughed a little. "I wish you were too, but maybe you ought to go to your own bed now."

He shook his head. "I can sleep downstairs."

"I think you should stop drinking, take some aspirin, and go to bed. Will you do that?"

He felt tears again. "Yes."

He heard her breathe in and out. "I love you, Chip."

"This is so hard, baby, without you."

"Chip…."

"I know, I know. But I don't wanna be with someone else."

"On the show, you mean?"

"Yes. It's only you, baby. You're the only one I love." He realized he was mixing up the real Chip and Connie with the characters they played, but it all felt so entwined to him.

"I know. So will you take some aspirin and go to sleep? For me?"

He nodded. "I will."

"And will you call me tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"It'll be better tomorrow. But go to sleep now. I love you."

He smiled, even as the tears spilled over onto his cheeks. "I love you too, baby." He lowered the phone and stabbed at it to hang up. He sat for a minute, then pushed himself up out of the chair. He was still dizzy and unsteady on his feet. He walked across the back porch, lurching back and forth until he got to the back door. He let himself in, stumbled around in the kitchen for a bottle of water, then headed for the guest room. He managed to find aspirin in the bathroom, took it, and then went and fell across the bed.

* * *

The next morning he woke up still in his clothes, lying with his head toward the foot of the bed. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara and he had the sour taste of bourbon in his mouth. He rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. His head was throbbing, so he got up and took more aspirin, then got in the shower. He stood under the showerhead and let the warm water roll over his face and down his body. When he finally got out, he felt a little better. He was definitely glad he had a late call that day.

He remembered calling Connie the night before and how soothing her voice was. Soon that soothing voice would be all he had. He found a robe and put it on, picking up his clothes. He was already missing her.

* * *

He was leaving for the UK with some of the other cast members in less than a week, for a week and a half of shows. Before they left, he had the wrap party and then he was hosting the CMT awards. She would be leaving for LA just a few days after he left the country. While they were in the UK, they'd be performing almost every night they were there so there would really be no time to wallow in his feelings. Tears suddenly began to cloud his vision and he pulled off the road the first place his could. He leaned back against the headrest, feeling the worst ache in his heart and then feeling like he couldn't breathe. He could feel the tears on his cheeks and he wanted to cry the way Deacon had while he watched Rayna's videos and read her journal.

It had been his last day filming and he had stopped by to see Connie. There weren't going to be many opportunities to see each other before he left and then she left, so he felt like they'd been trying to cram in so much. He'd had trouble with what was to come and he'd struggled to keep his desperation under control. He was having a hard time not focusing on her decision to leave the show. Even though they'd been given a sixteen episode sixth season, at times it felt pointless. With Connie gone – Rayna, actually – it felt like the light had been turned off, that the heart of the show was gone. And of course, it had meant that not only could he not turn off the despair, but he couldn't get his head out of his ass.

No matter what she said, he felt morose about the future. Too much could happen in a year, or two years, or however long this went on. He leaned forward and put his hands over his face while he cried. He handled things so badly with her, he knew that, but the full force of it was hitting him in a way he thought he'd successfully avoided and he felt like he'd hit a brick wall full on. All he could see in his minds' eye was the fiery anger in her eyes, the set of her jaw, how she was shaking with her fury.

" _You know it didn't have to be like this," he said mulishly._

 _She turned to look at him, an annoyed look on her face. "Why are we still talking about this, Chip?" she asked, her voice sounding brittle. "I just don't understand why you're still fighting with me on this."_

 _He took a step towards her, frowning. "Because you could have stayed. I'm here, not out in LA, and you're leaving me."_

 _She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "I am_ _not_ _leaving you," she said, her voice rising a notch. "And, quite honestly, I'm so tired of hearing that. It's like all you care about is how this affects_ _you_ _. Like I don't matter at all."_

" _Well, it doesn't seem like it bothers you much."_

 _She threw her hands up in the air. "How can you even say that? How can you even_ _think_ _it?"_

 _He shrugged. "Because that's how it feels._ _You_ _made all these decisions._ _You_ _decided you needed your creative space" – he made quote marks with his fingers – "and then you told me_ _after_ _you'd made your decision and_ _after_ _you'd told Marshall and negotiated it all out. You didn't include me, even though you say you love me and that we still matter."_

 _She got in his face. "I_ _do_ _love you, Chip, but I also have to take care of myself. Creatively I needed a change. I needed a challenge, I'd done everything I could with this role. And truthfully it's not like you should have been surprised. You were the one who listened to all my struggles, all my frustrations. And then you acted like it was a big surprise you never saw coming. And I didn't tell you first, because I had no idea if Marshall would even let me out of my contract. If he hadn't, what would have been the point of upsetting you?" She waved her hand in the air. "Oh, why am I even bothering? You aren't even listening to me. You haven't all this time. You've made me feel guilty for taking care of myself…."_

 _He put his hands on his temples and then threw them out in the air. "All I know is you could've stayed. But you didn't. You decided to be selfish and think only about yourself."_

 _She breathed in sharply, her eyes wide with surprise. Then she put her hand on the back of his arm and started turning him towards the door. "I need you to leave," she said._

 _He stopped, looking at her stubbornly. "You know it's true, Connie," he said._

 _He could see her shut down, see her face close off and her eyes grow hard as steel. "Get out," she said, her voice low and trembling slightly with her anger. He could see the tension in her face and, in fact, through her whole body. "I mean it. I can't deal with this from you. Get out. I just can't do this with you."_

He'd been too angry to try to backpedal. He had felt righteously indignant and justified in how pissed off he felt. It had been simmering under the surface, especially since she'd filmed her final scenes. He had tried to trust in them, but all he could hear inside his head was _she's leaving you, she's leaving Nashville, she's not coming back. You're here and she's gone and nothing is gonna be the same again._ He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to control the tears, his breathing, and feeling a huge hole in his gut. Finally he pulled the car back onto the road and headed towards home.

He knew he wouldn't sleep that night.


	27. Chapter 27

It had been a long couple of days. He'd finished his last scenes for the season, a scene with Maisy and another one with Cameron. A quieter finish to a season than some in the past. He had breathed a sigh of relief that Deacon hadn't gotten involved with Jessie after all, but he was afraid it might not be permanent. But he'd have to cross that bridge if, and when, he got to it. He'd gone to the wrap party but hadn't stayed long. Connie had talked about possibly going herself, but, if she came, it wasn't while he was there. He kept looking at his phone, hoping for a call or even a text, but there was nothing. He knew he could've made the move, should have made the move, but he couldn't.

It was the last day he could see her, before he hosted the CMT Awards and then went out on tour, and she headed back to LA. He'd gone for a long run with Blue, trying to burn off the anxiety. He'd tried to write, but had no inspiration. He tried taking a nap, but couldn't sleep. He couldn't stay still. He didn't want things to end like this.

As the sun began to dip in the sky, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed his keys. "Where are you going?" Patty asked, a frown on her face.

"Out," he said, jiggling the keys in his hand.

"I'll come with you."

He scowled. "No."

She breathed in. "You can't do this, Chip."

He wanted to scream, throw something. Instead he lifted his hands to his forehead in frustration, then flung them out to the side. "Look, you won!" he shouted. "You're gonna have to give me this!" He started for the door and she grabbed his arm. He pulled it away.

"What do I say to the kids?" she asked, a mulish look on her face.

He frowned. "You'll figure it out." He turned and started for the door.

"When will you be back?"

He turned and leaned towards her. "When I get back," he said, clenching his jaw. Then he headed out the door to the garage. He needed to fix this, if he still could.

* * *

He walked up the steps, carrying a brown bag with a bottle of bourbon. The porch lights were on and he could see the faint glow of light coming from the kitchen. His eyes were wet and his head hurt. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and rang the doorbell.

A minute later the door opened. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, her feet bare and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He could feel the tears again in his eyes but he fought them back, smiling at her apologetically. "I know you didn't want to see me, but I couldn't help it," he said.

She took a deep breath, then reached for his hand, pulling him into the foyer and pushing the door closed behind him. She stepped into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, and he kissed her, threading his fingers through her hair, with a sense of urgency and longing and need. It occurred to him then that she hadn't really looked surprised.

When they pulled away from each other, he held up the bag. "I've got bourbon," he said.

She smiled. "I have glasses." She put her arm around his waist and he put his around her shoulders. "Come on," she said, and they walked into the kitchen.

There were boxes everywhere and a take-out container of Thai food on the counter. She took glasses out of the cabinet and set them on the island. He took out the bottle, opened it, and poured. "Where's Yoby?' he asked.

"Spending the night with one of his school friends." She took a glass and sipped. "I didn't have the heart to say no. He's sad to be leaving here."

"I'm sad too." He took a deep breath. "I know you didn't want to see me," he said again.

She shook her head. "That's not really true. I'm glad you came. I didn't like how we left things."

He nodded. "Me either." He breathed out. "It wasn't fair of me."

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe not. But you were partly right. I _did_ need to go. I need to stretch myself, take on a new challenge." She looked at him thoughtfully. "But you need to work through the rest of it. Without the complications. And then we'll see where we land." She looked at him then with curiosity. "How were you able to leave?"

He shrugged. "Just told her I needed to go." He lifted his glass to his lips and took a swallow. "And that she needed to let me."

She raised her eyebrows and bit her lip. "I have to admit I'm surprised. That you were that honest and that she didn't do more to stop you." She set her glass down and rested her hands on the counter. Her gaze was level. "Nothing changes though."

He nodded. "I know."

"Are you sure?" He nodded again. "I want to walk away knowing we're okay."

A wave of gratefulness washed over him. "Are we? Okay?"

She smiled then. "Of course we are." She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. "We fight. We make up. You should know that by now. Just because we fight doesn't mean I don't still love you. That I wouldn't still welcome you back. This is hard stuff. We've been dealing with it for a long time. If it was going to break us, I think it would've done that a long time ago. Don't you?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

She sighed. "You stayed gone longer than I thought you would. I worried a little bit that you wouldn't come back. That you thought I was telling you we really were done."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I thought maybe you were. And when I didn't hear from you, I really thought so."

She gave him a little smile. "Then why did you come tonight?"

He got a little teary thinking about it. "Because it was my last chance. And because I thought it just couldn't end like that." He shook his head. "I wasn't sure what I was gonna walk into tonight. I just knew I couldn't let you go. Not like that." He took her hand. "You're the light at the end of the tunnel for me. When I thought about not going for it, it felt like I couldn't even breathe."

She nodded, then stepped closer to him. "I know this has been hard on you. I know you were hurt that I didn't talk to you about leaving. I guess it was really just that I didn't want you to think this was about you, that I was leaving because of you. I feel like I'm being torn in two, you know?" He could see tears in her eyes then. "I didn't expect this when I came here. I fought it, in the beginning, because I would never want to cause you pain. And then I did anyway. But leaving was never about you, Chip, you know that."

He nodded. "I do know that. I just can't help being a jackass." He smirked.

She smiled then. "That's true." Then she took a deep breath and the sadness was back in her eyes. "I know where it's coming from though. It's how I knew you'd be back and it's how I knew we wouldn't leave here with it finished." She took his hand in both of hers, bringing it to her lips. Then she looked back at him. "You're a part of me now. I can't imagine not being able to find a way to make this work in the end." He saw tears in her eyes then. "How long can you stay?"

"Until the sun rises." She turned and headed for the stairs. He waited only a second and then followed behind her.

* * *

He undressed her slowly, kissing the skin under her earlobe, dragging his finger down between her breasts after he'd unbuttoned her blouse. She had a sexy black bra on – she never didn't wear sexy underwear – and he lowered the straps with his index fingers, then brushed the tops of her breasts. She shivered just a little at his touch. When he let his thumb stroke the fabric over her hardened nipples, she made a soft noise and then looked up at him, letting her head fall back just slightly. He leaned in to kiss her and let his hands palm her ass, pressing her against him so she could feel how aroused he was.

"Oh, Chip," she whispered, her voice feather soft. She put her hands on his arms and he trailed little kisses over her face and then her shoulders.

He reached around her then and unfastened her bra, slowly drawing it off her body, before he dropped it on the floor with her blouse. "Oh, fuck, Connie, you're so gorgeous," he groaned. He reached for her magnificent breasts, holding them in his hands, then leaning down and letting his tongue tease her nipples. She started breathing hard and he looked up at her and smiled. Then he straightened up and reached for the zipper on her shorts. He then tucked his thumbs in the waistband on either side and swiftly pushed them down along with her panties. She was completely naked standing in front of him and he sucked in his breath.

He put his hand on her abdomen and turned her so she was leaning back against him. He let his fingers draw lazy circles as she swayed against him. Then he slid one hand down and between her legs, sliding two fingers slowly inside her. He leaned into her ear. "You like this, baby," he whispered.

"Oh, yes," she murmured. He kept sliding his fingers in and out slowly and she rocked her hips back and forth in rhythm with him. When he heard her breathing get heavier and she started making little noises, he withdrew his fingers. "No, babe, please," she moaned.

He turned her to face him and gave her a sly smile. "But it's your turn to undress me," he said. She smiled back, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, just as he had done. She ran her tongue over his nipple and then lightly bit down. "Oh, God," he moaned. He was so hard it was painful. He was trying to think of something, _anything_ , to take his mind off how much he wanted to grab her and throw her down, then grind into her without mercy. But he didn't want that on this night, so he breathed in slowly.

When she finally got his jeans off, she held him in her soft hands. "This is so beautiful," she murmured.

He choked on a groan, then opened his eyes wide and looked at her. "Baby, I'm about to go," he said, his teeth clenched. She looked back at him and smiled. Then she pushed him down on the edge of the bed and then straddled him. As she lowered herself, he reached for the back of her thighs. She reached out and pushed his shoulder with her hand, until he laid back on the bed. Then she crawled onto the bed, hovering over him for a moment before lowering herself onto him, taking him inside her in one swift thrust.

He wasn't sure there was any better place to be than inside her. He didn't really care how they did it, but he knew making love to her was the best feeling he'd ever had. She started to rock back and forth, slowly, still hovering over him. He put his hands on her waist as she slowly and sensually moved around him. He watched her face, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. Then suddenly it was like she couldn't wait any longer and her movements quickened and she started panting as she rode him hard. Right at the end she made little moaning noises and he couldn't wait any longer. He felt himself let go and then it was like he was numb, the sensation washing over and over him, until he felt her pulsing around him.

When she finally rolled off of him, she laid on her back for a moment, then started to laugh. He turned to look at her, a smile on his face, and said, "Was I that funny?"

She laughed again and then rolled on her side, putting her hand on his chest. "Of course not, silly," she said with a grin. "It was just that it was so, so" – she looked up at the ceiling, then back at him – "so fucking amazing."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, forgetting for a moment that it was their last night together.

* * *

They were both trying not to fall asleep. These last moments were precious and neither one wanted to miss a second of the time they had together. He had his arm around her, lightly running his hand over her shoulder. She was on her side, her head against his shoulder, her hand on his chest. She had one leg draped over his. He breathed in, suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that, when he came back from Europe, she'd be gone. She raised up her head and looked at him, a worried look on her face. Then she shook her head. "No, no, no," she said. "No sadness, no tears." He swallowed. "I know it's hard to say goodbye…for now. But it isn't the end, Chip." He started to say something and she put her index finger over his lips. "Tell me about your dreams," she said.

He frowned. "My dreams?"

She nodded. "Your music. What do you want to do with that? Beyond all your weekly singles, I mean."

He thought about that. "I guess, keep writing songs. Keep putting 'em out, one way or the other."

"Keep going," she said.

"I'd like to be able to tour. On my own, I mean." He brushed his finger over her arm. "One day I'd like to be known more for my music than my acting. I want to see where it takes me." He smiled a little. "I guess that's my dream. So, what's yours?"

She shook her head. "Not yet." She smiled. "So when you say you want to tour, what does that look like?"

He leaned his head back on the pillow. "On my own, like I said." He turned to look at her. "I mean, I'm under no illusions that I could fill an arena or anything, but a music hall, a music club, small theaters. Being able to play my own music, not the music from the show. I feel like I've gotten a lot of opportunities here, and now I'd like to make something of them." He smiled. "Okay, now you."

She smiled and then rested her chin on his chest. "I want to keep doing what I'm doing, but I want to jump in and out of things. Do fun things, do meaningful work. I don't want to be another Rayna or Tami. I want to stretch myself. And I'm like you. I think I'd like to be known less for acting and more for how I put myself out there in the world, giving voice to women and children. I'd love to be known for taking a stand and being compassionate and working to make the world a better place." Her eyes had a dreaminess to them.

He loved her passion, the care she had for others. He'd seen tears in her eyes, and had even seen her cry, over the things she saw that she felt were injustices. She had such a tender heart for others and he was in awe of that. He kissed her forehead. "You'll do all that and more," he said.

She smiled. "As will you, my love. You have such determination and you work hard, always trying to get better." She ran a finger across his jawbone. "I don't know if you truly know how much you inspire people. And how much positivity you show. I just love how joyful you are, when you're doing things you love. Every time I see you perform, I can see how much you love it." She wrinkled her nose and gave him a playful smile. "And it makes me so proud of you, even though I don't have anything at all to do with it." She laughed.

He grinned. "Oh, but you do, baby," he said. "So many of those songs I write are for you. And I'm singing 'em for you."

She shook her head. "They're for Rayna," she said.

He laughed. "I have to say that." He leaned in and kissed her, then looked at her seriously. "One day I'm gonna be able to say _you're_ my inspiration, that these songs are for _you_ , not for Rayna." He could feel himself getting emotional again. "One day, you'll be right there with me and I can sing everything _to_ you. _For_ you. With you right there with me."

She nodded and he could see the emotion in her eyes as well. "Yes, you will," she whispered. Then she leaned over and kissed him. "Now, make love to me again."

He kissed her back, then rolled her over onto her back. He hovered over her, gazing into her eyes, watching her looking back at him, her mouth slightly parted, as though she were waiting to see what he would do. He reached between them, sliding his fingers inside her, sucking in his breath when he felt how wet and ready for him she was. He slid them in and out slowly and she let out a breathy moan each time. She moved her hips in rhythm with his fingers, her moans getting a little louder. She arched her back, keeping her eyes on his, and bit down on her lower lip. He leaned down and let his lips brush hers. "You ready for more, baby?" he whispered.

"Yes, please," she whispered. He removed his fingers, then slid into her, pausing every few seconds to allow her to adjust to him. When he finally was fully inside her, when there was nothing that was between their skin, he began to move in and out, in long, deliberate strokes, until she was begging him to get her over the top.

He picked up his pace, changing to quick, powerful strokes. She arched into him, moaning louder and louder. When he could feel that she was on the edge, he switched back to long strokes, picking up the intensity, until she tensed up and then let loose with a powerful orgasm, as he came right behind her. He looked down at her, his breathing as hard as hers, watching her face as she came down from her high. He would miss this.

* * *

"Chip! Chip!" He came out of the fog of sleep, as she tugged on his arm. He looked up at her. Even in the dark he could see the concern on her face.

"What is it, baby?" he asked, feeling a little like he was drugged.

"It's almost 3:30," she said, her voice still urgent. "We fell asleep."

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head, trying to figure out what was going on. "Something wrong?" he asked, putting a hand on her arm.

She hesitated a moment, then said, "I think you should go."

He frowned, fully awake. "What?"

"I think you should go home."

"I don't want to. This is the last time we have together. I wanna wake up with you in the morning."

She put her hand on his chest. "I know. So do I. But I don't think it would be a good idea not to be home when your kids get up."

"It's not like they're up at the crack of dawn."

She sighed. "I just think you should be mindful of how it looks."

He looked up at the ceiling and then closed his eyes. His head understood, but his heart did not. He never wanted to leave her, but since that was an inevitability, he wanted to have every second he could with her. He turned his head and looked at her. "This is the last time…."

She shook her head. "It's not. It might be the last time before we both go off on new journeys, but I'll be here in August. We'll talk. We'll text. We'll see each other when we can. And then one day..." She trailed off, and he knew what she meant. _One day we'll be together. For good._

He sighed. "Okay." He sat up then and she did as well. He turned and swung his legs off the bed.

She kneeled behind him, her arms around him. She kissed the back of his neck. " _I'm_ not dead, you know," she said softly.

He smiled sadly and put his hand over hers. "I know," he said. He breathed in deeply. "I love you."

She buried her face in the crook of his neck. "I love you too," she murmured.

They both got up then and, silently, got dressed. He waited for her, as she walked around the bed, and then took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. They walked down the stairs and into the foyer. He took her in his arms and they just held each other. He didn't want to leave and he didn't want _her_ to leave. He wondered what would happen if he just stayed, with her, instead of leaving. It was what he wanted and he was pretty sure it was what she wanted too. The enormity of what was to come overwhelmed him again. He didn't want to cry, but he felt the tears build in his eyes and he couldn't stop them.

She looked up at him then. "Please don't do this to me," she said, her voice shaky with emotion. In the dim light coming in from the streetlights, he could see the glisten of tears on her own face.

"Please don't leave me," he said, feeling totally and completely gutted. It wasn't the same, to just call and text and see each other once in a while. At least when she was in Nashville, they could see each other often, whether at work or by planning time together. This felt like something else – the unknown, stretching out in front of them, with no set end point. She just clung to him and he held her close, feeling the shaking of her body as she cried with him.

Almost without realizing it, his lips were on hers, and they were kissing like they were drowning in the ocean, waves crashing over them and threatening to drag them under. Holding her felt like he was holding onto a lifeline, but finally they pulled away from each other and she took his hands in hers. "I'm not leaving _you_ , Chip. You know that," she said.

He nodded. "I know. But you won't be here."

She put her hand over his heart. "I'll be here" – she put his hand over her heart – "and you'll be here. We're connected. Always. And I'll be waiting. When it's time."

He kissed her again, not so desperately this time, and then looked down at her, smoothing her hair off her face. He brushed his lips across hers one last time and then he turned to let himself out. As he walked down the stairs, out to his car, and then drove home, he couldn't help but feel like he was all alone.

* * *

He had crashed on the couch after he'd gotten home from Connie's, turning the TV on and the sound down low. He felt a combination of high and low. High from being with her, low from being without her, and knowing that would be the last time for a while. He hadn't expected to fall asleep, but when the sun rose in the sky so that it hit his face directly, he slowly opened his eyes. The TV was off, so he knew someone, probably Patty, had found him there. He didn't move, just listened. He didn't hear anything and wondered if it was still early or really late. He stretched and then sat up on the edge of the couch.

He breathed in deeply, rubbing his face. Then he looked around and didn't see anyone in the great room area. He pushed up from the couch, wincing a little at the stiffness in his body. Sleeping on the couch, even one as comfortable as that one, was not ideal. He walked into the kitchen and pulled a mug out of the cabinet. He started the coffee machine and then looked at the clock to see that it was after ten. He had just pulled the mug from the machine when he heard hesitant footsteps behind him. He turned to see Patty.

"What time did you get home?" she asked.

He took a sip of coffee and then set the mug down on the island, leaning against it. "Four maybe?" he said with a shrug. He looked around then. "The kids up yet?"

"They're all up and gone." She crossed her arms over her waist. "I told them to be quiet, that you'd had a tough night."

He nodded, feeling a knot in his stomach. It _had_ been a tough night, even though he and Connie were good, which was the most important thing. "Thank you," he said, feeling torn about the fact that she was lying for him. He didn't want to involve the kids in this, though. It would mean having to share much more than the fact that he was in love with someone else, had a relationship with someone else, and was committed to someone else. But he was also grateful that Patty wasn't at a place where she wanted to be vindictive, by outing him that way. He was thankful for that, although he suspected it wasn't him she was trying to protect.

"Are you going to be up for tonight?" she asked.

He was hosting the CMT Awards, a huge honor and one he'd not expected. He and Chris Carmack had done a bit the year before and then it turned into a hosting gig. He knew, of course, that it had a lot to do with the show being on CMT and, with them having just come back for the second half of the season, it was a great way to showcase it. "Of course," he said. "I kind of can't not be, you know?"

She was silent for a moment, then said, "I got most of your things packed last night. You should check, though, to be sure it's what you wanted to take."

He nodded. "Thanks," he said. "I, uh, I'm gonna get in the shower, get dressed. I want to work on my set list." He didn't wait for her to respond, just headed for the stairs.

* * *

The hot shower felt good. It reenergized him. He was feeling better about the show that night. Since he and Connie were back on level ground, he could enjoy the experience. When he got out of the shower, he got dressed, then headed back downstairs. He fixed another cup of coffee and toasted a bagel, slathering it with cream cheese. He took them out on the porch and set them on one of the side tables and then went back inside. He picked up his guitar and his notebook and went back out, Blue following behind.

He settled into a chair and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He sent a quick text. _Missing you already._ Then he set it down on the side table and picked up his coffee and took a swallow. He sat back against the back of the bench and spread his notes out beside him. As he chewed on his bagel, he made some changes to the set list he'd use over in Europe. He was excited about the prospect of going back to the UK. They'd done a handful of shows the year before and this tour was about double the number. Their fans in Europe, as it turned out, were very invested, and sold out the venues. That wasn't always the case in the US, which had surprised him. But they also were able to play larger venues in the US and they were harder to fill. Still, he enjoyed the opportunity to showcase some of his own music and not just the music from the show.

His phone buzzed and he stopped what he was doing and picked it up. It was from Connie and he smiled. _Missing you too. Good luck tonight, but I know you'll be GREAT! Have fun!_

* * *

Patty was silent on the drive home. It was late and he had to get up early the next day and he was hoping she wouldn't bring up something unpleasant. He knew she hadn't been pleased when he was asked about Connie, and her exit from the show, and the character of Rayna. He was feeling good about things with Connie, so he'd been happy to share. He could see, in his peripheral vision, that she was angry. She didn't smile, her face looked almost blank and he could feel the tension. He hadn't really cared, though. It was all part of promoting the show, was the way he looked at it, even though he was sure she did not.

He was still jazzed up from hosting the show. It had felt amazing to be doing it and he had felt like he'd done a good job at it. It certainly wasn't the first hosting gig he'd had, but it was on a bigger stage than he'd ever had before, both literally and figuratively. He'd felt surprisingly loose and relaxed and he hoped it showed. But Patty's silence was slowly taking the life out of his high. He really didn't want to have to have a fight about it, but he thought he probably wasn't going to escape without one.

They were not far from the exit to home, when she turned slightly towards him. "Could you not have gone on and on about her?" she said.

He ran one hand over his mouth and sighed. "I didn't go on and on. I answered the questions."

"You were so…over the top about it."

He glanced over at her and frowned. "What am I supposed to do? Cry? Get pissed? Throw her under the bus for leaving the show? What do you want me to do?"

"It's fine to answer the questions, but you just go overboard with it. 'That amazing woman'. 'Everyone loved the time we got with her'. And then that you get to grieve her through the show."

"Goddammit, Patty," he said, raising his voice. "I don't even know what you want me to say."

"So did she actually tell you she was happy people watched? And that the show would go on? Or did you just say that to make her look good?"

He shook his head. "I'm not even going there with you. She's leaving in a couple days and then maybe you'll stop with all this." He looked over at her again. "Or maybe you'll just say what you really feel and get it out there. Stop being passive-aggressive about this." He was looking forward to the time away while they were on tour. She wasn't going because of the kids and he'd been relieved.

She frowned. "I think _you're_ the one who's being passive-aggressive."

He clenched his jaw. "I'm just trying to be a dad to my kids. To _our_ kids."

"And yet you let her get in the way."

He breathed out slowly. "What is it you want, Patty? You and I both know this has been going on a long time, you and me. We've made it work for the kids' sake, but you can't tell me you've been happy all this time." He cleared his throat. "You wanna air this out now?"

She turned away and looked out the window, crossing her arms. "I don't think it's time to talk about it," she said, and her body language echoed that.

He shrugged and turned his attention back to the road and he took the exit heading home.

* * *

He was enjoying the tour, enjoying being on his own. It allowed him the opportunity to wander, seeing old sights he remembered from his days doing 'Buddy' on stage in London. He got to see new places and then perform at night for excited fans. He felt a measure of freedom he hadn't had in a while. And he had time to really think about what was next. Because of the time difference, he and Connie didn't talk, but they did text. She was full of questions about the tour, about what he was doing, _how_ he was doing. It was nice, but it felt impersonal, and he was starting to feel a sense of disconnection from her, which he didn't like.

It was a short tour – just 11 days – but it gave him space, the kind of space he'd needed. He missed his kids and thought a lot about next steps for them. Both Taylor and Chase were in college and, the next summer, Addie would going as well. Taylor would graduate in the spring and she was already forging ahead with her career. He felt a measure of sadness, thinking about them going out into the world, leaving home and moving on. It was what he and Patty had wanted for all three of them, back when they were young. Their goal had been to raise good human beings and he felt a measure of pride that they'd done that.

He had wondered more, in recent years, about whether that would have happened if he'd left early on. Patty and the kids might have all gone back to California and he thought his kids might have felt the way he had, back when he was young and living away from his dad. It really hadn't been a hard choice, in a vacuum. He'd been rather fortunate, having both his life as a dad and the relationship with Connie. But it had also been a bittersweet choice, as he and Connie couldn't have the full relationship they wanted.

He focused his thoughts on her. It hadn't been quite a week since he'd left Nashville, but it already felt like everything had changed. She was back in LA now and it suddenly felt as if they couldn't have been farther apart. It had always been tough, during a hiatus, but she always came back. Now she wouldn't. She'd be back with her friends, with things that were more familiar, the things she always missed when she was away. She'd step into new roles and have new experiences and then maybe they'd start to drift apart. He felt a knot in his stomach. He couldn't help but wonder if, after all of this, that it could just be gone like a puff of smoke.

He reached for his phone. _Thinking about you_ , he texted. _Missing you. Wishing that one day I could bring you here._ He stared at the phone. It was the middle of the afternoon in the UK, which meant it was early morning in LA. Too early for her, he was sure. He stared at the phone a little longer, then put it aside. He closed his eyes for a quick nap, knowing he needed to be up by 5:00 to head to the venue for sound check.

* * *

When he finally came off the stage, feeling exhilarated and energized, he noticed he had a text from Connie. He smiled to himself and opened it up _. I miss you too. And I've been thinking about you a lot. And I am with you already – in your heart._ She ended it with a red heart emoji. He felt better.

* * *

When he made his way down the escalator to baggage claim, he saw Patty and Addie waiting. He steeled himself for whatever was to come, but he smiled a genuine smile at his youngest. She was the last one at home and he had to admit that he wasn't looking forward to her flying the nest. It was still his line in the sand, though, the date in his head when he and Patty would finally acknowledge that the marriage was long over and that there was no longer a reason to perpetuate it.

When he got to the bottom of the escalator, he wrapped Addie up in his arms. "Missed you, Addie," he said, hugging her tight.

Her smile, as always, lit up her face. "Good grief, Dad, you weren't even gone two weeks." She laughed, then gave him a playful look. "Did you bring me anything?"

He smiled at her. "I might have. But you'll have to wait until we get home." Patty had approached then and she had a smile on her face that didn't have any of the artifice it often did. He caught a little wariness in her eyes, but he could tell she had let go of some of her tenseness, and he was sure it was because of the fact that Connie was finally gone.

"Hope you had a great tour," she said, putting her arm around his waist and tilting her head up, her eyes telling him he needed to kiss her, if for no other reason than that their daughter was standing right there.

He put an arm around her shoulders and leaned down to give her a peck on the lips. Then he dropped his arm and took a small step away. In his mind nothing had changed. He'd do what he needed to, but his feelings, and his intentions, hadn't changed. He would do what he needed to do to get through and nothing more.

After they got all his luggage, they left the airport for the car. He had his arm around Addie and pulled one of his suitcases with the other. _Yep, nothing had changed._

* * *

He attached the leash to Blue after doing a few stretches. It was early, the rest of the house quiet. Normally he didn't like getting up early, but when they were at the beach it was different somehow. He loved being with family, but he just needed to clear his head sometimes. Be alone with himself and his thoughts, especially these days with Connie back out in LA. He had just picked up the keys when he heard footsteps behind him. He closed his eyes for a second, hoping it wasn't Patty.

"Could you use some company, baby brother?" came the voice from behind him. He turned. His sister was in shorts and a t-shirt and he noticed she had running shoes on. "I know you've been going out almost every morning and I was hoping to get some sibling time with you."

He smiled. "Sure, why not?" She walked over and he put his arm around her neck. "Let's go."

* * *

They ran down the beach. It felt like they had silently agreed not to talk, just to maintain a steady pace. Summertime at the beach was different from other times of the year. It was more crowded, for one thing, and that meant that when they went out for ice cream or for dinner or to one of the beach shops, he'd get stopped, for pictures and autographs. He never minded, really, because he knew it could all be gone in an instant. It was easy to be kind to people, say hello, take that picture, say something nice. But it could also be draining. He needed these quiet times. In the summer, the air was always heavy and thick. Running took more of an effort, breathing was harder. So finally Cathy reached over and tapped his arm and he knew she was ready to stop.

They sat along the dune line. He held on to Blue's leash, but the dog laid down on the sand, obviously tired too. At first they just looked out over the beach, watching the waves come in. Then she looked at her feet. "So, here's how I can tell you're a really good actor." He looked at her and frowned. She looked back at him, but he couldn't see her eyes behind her sunglasses. "I don't know if most people notice, because you're both so animated and chatty and work the room. Maybe a touch too much, but again, I'm probably the only one who'd notice."

"What are you getting at?"

"I can see it in your eyes, her eyes. You never really look at each other. When you put your arm around her, it's like you're doing what someone's told you to do. Like 'this is how we should look so people think we're happy'. I don't know what other people think, but your social media posts just scream 'I'm not happy, but I have to hide it by trying to make people think I am'." She paused and he looked out back out over the ocean, watching the water pull out and then return, waves crashing on the shore. The air felt heavy. "It's over the top, Chip. Even for you. What are you waiting for?"

He didn't look at her. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, a little mulishly.

She let out a disbelieving laugh. "Chip Puskar, I know you probably better than anyone else. Except maybe Mom." She took a beat and he felt anxious. "And maybe someone else?" She phrased it as a question, said it quietly, but he knew it was no question. He hadn't wanted to feel transparent, especially to his sister. He felt a roar between his ears and he knew it wasn't the waves. It was like all the blood had gone to his head and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "I don't feel like you're happy. In this part of your life anyway."

He turned his head to look at her. She was right, of course. They'd grown up together, close in age, and they'd always been close. Even though they didn't see each other all the time, she always could sniff out his bullshit. "I'm not." He needed to talk to someone and Cathy was his sister, his blood.

She gave him a slight nod. "How long?"

He shrugged casually. "A long time. It was gradual at first, after Addie recovered. We tried to revive things, but I don't think either one of us had the energy for it. We kind of settled into an…arrangement, I guess. We never talked about it, just sort of did it. Became partners. Friends, I guess, in a way. Who had kids together and wanted to stick it out for them, because there was no real reason not to."

She put her finger in the sand and watched herself draw figure 8's. His radar was on high alert, not knowing where she'd go next. He didn't know if she'd keep going or let it go. She didn't look at him, just kept drawing figure 8's. "But now there is," she said.

This was it. It had been lonely for the past five years, not having anyone to talk to about his feelings, what was going on, how to figure it all out. "Now there is." He almost couldn't believe he'd said it out loud.

She looked up at him then. "Is it Connie?" she asked.

He looked away, feeling like he'd somehow betrayed Connie, betrayed _them_ , even though he hadn't said her name at that point. But it had nearly killed him to keep silent. Everything that happened, that he couldn't tell Connie, just built up inside of him. "It's, um, I…." He still couldn't say the words, couldn't tell her she was right. It had been five years and he'd never said it to anyone and the words just wouldn't come. He breathed in deeply and put his head down.

After a moment, he felt her hand on his back, rubbing it the same way he remembered their mom doing when they were kids and feeling hurt or scared or sad. He bit down on his lip. They sat silently for what felt like hours, but was probably just five or ten minutes. "How long has it been?" He tried to smile, but it wouldn't come, when she did that thing she always did. She seemed to always know what he was thinking, reading his mind, so he didn't have to do anything more than give her the answers he could.

He sighed, still looking down at the sand beneath him. "Almost from the beginning," he said.

"That's a long time. No wonder you feel like this." She linked her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Is she still in town?" He shook his head. "Is it…?"

He knew what she was about to say. "No," he said. "It's not."

He heard her sigh as she let go of his arm and sat up. He could see, in his peripheral vision, that she was looking out towards the ocean, probably contemplating what to say next. He wished he could tell her everything, but he'd protected it for so long that he just couldn't form the words or even start to know how to begin. When she put a hand on his arm, he looked up and over at her. "We all deserve to be happy, Chip," she said. "I don't know if you went about that the right way totally, but _you_ deserve to be happy too. If this is what makes you happy, if _she_ makes you happy, what's holding you back?"

He considered what to say. The truth was that he wasn't totally sure who he was trying to protect. His family? Connie? Or himself? He ended up not exactly answering her question. "I probably coulda gone on for the rest of my life just like we were. There was stuff that was missing, but it was a decent life. Raising our kids, making sure they were taken care of and would turn into good people. We were friends, and I guess there's worse things." He sighed. "But it's lonely. Probably for her too." He paused. "I know I haven't been easy to live with these last few years. I know I've been unkind to her. I wouldn't have done that…before." He looked back at his sister. "There's a part of my life now where things feel really good. I don't want to lose it, so I'm gonna work really hard not to, until the day where it's _all_ of my life. I know I'll hurt people – both people I know and love and those I really don't know – and I'll deal with that when it happens.""

She gave him an encouraging smile. "I know you want to take care of the people who love you – your family – and that's admirable. I just don't want you to miss the opportunity to take care of yourself." She reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "How do you think this will go, in the end?"

He shrugged. "Not sure. I promised myself I'd be there for my kids. It's important to me to be present in their lives." She nodded. "But then I don't know. A year is a long time. Five years is a long time. I don't know how long the show will go on, but I know I'm in it until they kick me out." He smiled a little sadly. "It's tough. This has been the most settled I've ever been in my career. That it was _this_ show, living in _that_ town, has been a dream come true. I've gotten to do things I never thought I would. I would have always kept trying at the music thing, but in Nashville, I've gotten to be around great songwriters and producers and gotten to make more music than I ever have. I've played the Opry, the Ryman, the Bluebird, all those iconic places. I know it's because of this job that I've gotten the chance, but you know how much I've wanted this."

She nodded. "I do. And I've loved seeing you get your chances. I'm proud of you, Chip."

He smiled. "Thanks, sis. I know I don't do the important work you do, but I feel like I'm living my dream." He sighed. "I never expected the rest. It wasn't my plan."

She nodded. "I know." She paused. "You're a really good person, Chip. You love the people you love fiercely. You're always trying to make other people feel good. You enjoy making people happy. I think we just never know what life is going to throw at us. And sometimes it's messy and it makes us have to make hard decisions. And it hurts and can be painful. I know you don't want to hurt anyone. Even if you don't love Patty anymore, I don't believe you want to hurt her. It's just not in you to do that." She gave him an encouraging smile. "I think you'll figure it out and I think the two of you can work out whatever is next in an adult way. I want you to be happy."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, smiling gratefully. He appreciated her more than she would probably ever know. "Thanks, sis," he said. She was right. He didn't have a crystal ball and he didn't know what the future really held. He knew he loved Connie and he knew she loved him. But they were in uncharted territory now and he had no idea what was ahead for them. He guessed he'd just have to play it by ear.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: From this point on, you'll see some time jumps for the sake of not bogging down the story, and I'll hit mostly on major events. It also won't necessarily follow the track we've seen play out, so you may see things that aren't as factually accurate, but I've taken some literary license to make them fit better. Thanks for reading!**

He and Cathy didn't talk again about the conversation they'd had that morning on the beach. The rest of the trip focused on fun, family, and laughter. His early morning beach runs were solitary and he would always stop along the way to text Connie. She and Yoby were traveling, hanging out with friends, and he could tell she was enjoying being back in LA. While he was happy she was happy, it made him sad to think about it happening somewhere other than Nashville. When they facetimed, he could see the change in her. She looked younger somehow, fresher. She glowed and her eyes sparkled in a way he realized had not been true for her for quite some time. He would see it sometimes, in their more intimate moments, when she was concentrating completely on him, shutting out all the rest of the noise.

He took a late night walk the last night they would be at the beach. The moon was almost full, its light sparkling across the dark ocean. It was a warm, muggy night and his t-shirt felt like it was sticking to his skin. There was the usual brisk breeze blowing in, but it did nothing to cool off the heat. They'd had their end of beach vacation barbeque blowout, with lots of food and beer and laughter. He found a somewhat sheltered area to sit and then called Connie.

When her face appeared on his screen, he smiled. She had a beautiful smile on her face, her hair piled on top of her head, and wearing glasses and no makeup. "Hey!" she said, then looked to her side. "Yoby, it's Chip."

Yoby popped onto the screen. "Chip!" he cried, a huge smile on his face. "Where you at?"

"Where are you," Connie corrected. Yoby just gave her a sideways look and he couldn't help but laugh at the little boy.

"I'm at the beach, Yobes," he said.

"We have a beach," Yoby announced. "You should come to _our_ beach." He could see Connie smiling behind him.

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I will definitely come to your beach."

"When?"

He took a deep breath. "As soon as I can, buddy," he said.

Connie moved the phone back. "You can go back to your movie," she said, obviously to Yoby.

"Bye, Chip!" Yoby's voice was already fading as he clearly ran back to his movie.

Connie seemed to watch him, then turned back to him, laughing softly. "He's watching something, I don't even know what, but he wanted to say hey." Then she smiled at him. "Hey."

He smiled back. "Hey yourself."

"So, this is your last night?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We've got a long drive back tomorrow."

"And then what?"

"A few weeks off, then more cast tour."

"Do you come out near here?"

He shook his head. "All east coast." He sighed. "I miss you."

She smiled. "I miss you too. Was the vacation good?"

"Yeah. It's always good to hang out with family. We had our big end of trip blowout tonight, then we all watched the sun set."

"So you're buzzed, I take it?" She had a cheeky grin.

He grinned back. "A bit. I'll probably have a few more when I get back. Just because somebody's gotta finish 'em off." He chuckled. "So, what's happening with you?"

"I've been looking at some houses. I was hoping to be settled by the time Yoby started school, but I don't think that's happening. But it's okay. I want to find the right place. And I'm talking to a few people about a few projects. Looking at maybe developing something myself, if I can't find the right thing."

He smiled. "I can't imagine anyone not snapping you up."

She laughed. "Well, that's sweet, but you know, I'm picky. It has to be just the right thing. Oh, and I've been doing other things, outside of work."

He nodded. "What kind of show are you looking for?"

She shrugged. "Nothing like 'Nashville'. I don't know that I'll ever do anything like that again. I think I'd like to do recurring roles, where I'm not having to give my whole life, you know? If I ever agreed to do another series, it would have to be like a year or something. Maybe another movie, if something looks intriguing. When do you start back?"

"Not til the end of September."

She got a mischievous look on her face then. "I wanted to show you something," she said, with a wicked grin.

He smiled back. "What's that?"

She looked around first, then he could see her work on a button, then another. Then she pulled back her shirt so he could see her bare breast. "You like that?" she asked, still grinning.

He sucked in his breath. He was so hungry for her that even just getting a glimpse was at least a little satisfying. "Probably the most amazing thing I've seen, well, since you've been gone."

She laughed, then pulled her blouse over to cover herself. "I hope you don't think I'm too slutty," she said.

He grinned broadly. "Never." He sighed. "I better get back. I just wanted to talk to you."

"I'm glad you could call. So I'll be in Nashville on August 19th. Yoby and I are gonna stay with Ruthie." She paused. "I want to see you. Even if it's just to, you know, _see_ you."

He nodded. "We'll figure something out. Let me know when you get in town and what your schedule is."

"I will." She bit down on her lip. "I love you."

He felt his heart squeeze. "I love you too, baby." He sighed. "I'll text you tomorrow."

After they disconnected, he continued to sit where he was, listening to the soothing sound of waves crashing onto the shore and the reflection of the moon rippling across them and then trailing out towards the horizon. He felt the breeze lift his hair and the heavy air seem to sit on his skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He missed her so much it hurt. He missed her laugh, he missed her smile, he missed the way she put her hand on his face or his chest. He missed her skin against his and he missed making love to her. Most of all, he just missed being with her, in quiet moments where they blocked out everything except each other.

He thought back on how hard it had been to talk to Cathy about her, even without using her name. They'd lived this secret life for so long. The life they'd both chafed against, at various times, but it had become the norm, second nature. They did the things normal couples did, but they were in snippets wherever they could catch them. He wondered what it would be like to live a whole life with her, to wake up with her and go to bed with her. To be free to hold hands or sit close or to just kiss in front of others. Would it feel strange? Would it take time to get used to? Would it all feel so different that it was hard to navigate? He hoped not. He didn't think so, but then he wasn't sure.

He opened his eyes, thinking he'd been gone long enough. Maybe too long. He got up on his feet and then retraced his steps, back to the beach house.

* * *

As August 19th grew closer, he started to wonder how much time they'd have together. He was booked to perform at the Opry for the special eclipse show the night before the event itself and he expected they would not be in a position to watch the eclipse together, so he was curious how much availability she would have. He wasn't even sure how long she'd be in town. He was hopeful, however, that they might get a little bit of time for just the two of them.

Around the middle of August, she texted him. _Can you get away to talk?_ He quickly responded. _I need to go to Starbucks in about an hour._ He waited. _What? Did you mean that for someone else?_ He laughed. _It's my cover, whiskey lips._ She responded with the embarrassed smile emoji. _Duh. Okay, call me then._

* * *

An hour later, he was pulling through the drive thru and then found a parking spot and parked. He pulled out his phone and called her. "Hey," he said, when she answered. "This a good time?"

"It's perfect. So, how are you?"

"Okay. Doing some writing. Have a few gigs lined up. Waiting to get back to work." He smiled. "But that's not why you wanted me to call."

She laughed a little. "You're right, it's not." She paused. "I made my plans." She sighed. "My Nashville friends have planned a lot for me, which doesn't surprise me, but it wasn't leaving me any…free time. So I negotiated the middle of the day free on Tuesday, but it doesn't feel like enough. Do you think you'd have any time you could get free, even for just a couple hours? Just for us?"

He was feeling a little disappointed about the limited amount of time, but he also understood that her friends would want to hang out with her – and would not think she had anything else to do. "Just tell me what you want to do. I've got the Opry Sunday night, but otherwise I can always come up with something. It's a lot easier now. With you gone, the leash has been loosened."

"Well, what about Monday? Late afternoon or early evening. We don't have to _do_ anything, just go someplace and talk or something." She sighed again. "I just want to have some alone time with you. We don't know when we'll have time like that again."

It was true. Once he was back at work, he wouldn't have spare time. And even though Patty had loosened the reins some, it didn't mean she gave him complete freedom. "I'll make it work," he said.

She was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, he thought he caught an emotional sadness in her voice. "I miss you," she said softly. "I mean, _really_ miss you. I miss knowing I'll be back."

He held his breath and swallowed his pain. He was determined not to get into a fight with her – or even just a difficult tenseness – over the fact that it was her choice to move on. It was – he knew it and so did she – and it just wasn't worth a few minutes of righteous indignation to bring it up again _. It is what it is,_ he thought. He suspected that continuing to be an ass about it could eventually drive her away. "I miss you too, baby," he said. "We'll make the best of what we have."

* * *

He was sitting in his car in the clearing at the head of the trail that led down to their spot. Sunset came earlier every day, but it wasn't yet dark. He hadn't been able to get away until later than he'd wanted to and was grateful she was still willing. They would see each other the next day, but Yoby would be with her. He could feel his heart pounding as he anticipated seeing her.

He kept looking at his phone, waiting. Then he saw the lights of a car easing slowly onto the gravel. His breath felt like it was caught in his throat. It really hadn't been that long since he'd seen her last, certainly not much longer than a normal hiatus, but somehow it felt like years. The car eased around, circling behind him before pulling up beside his. The driver's side door opened and she stepped out. He couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw her. She smiled at him, lifting her hand in a wave, before opening the passenger side door and sliding into the seat. She pulled the door closed and just looked at him for a moment, then leaned towards him and, taking his face in her hands, kissed him, first gently, then biting down lightly on his bottom lip. Suddenly the kiss was filled with expectation and need, as their tongues battled each other, and he sucked on her lips. He tried putting his arms around her, but with the console in the way, it was awkward.

He pulled back, breathing hard. "Maybe we should get back there," he said, nodding towards the back seat.

Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I like that idea," she said.

They quickly got out of the car and into the back seat, where he pulled her into his arms, letting his hands slip under the back of her t-shirt and then trail up her back. She put one hand on the side of his face and slid the other around his waist, as she moved closer to him. She looked into his eyes, her own dark with desire, and then leaned in to kiss him. It felt like they didn't need words, that they knew each other so well and were so in sync with each other that everything just happened so organically.

He slid one hand down and under her and then he lifted her enough that he could lay her on her back. He hovered over her. She had one hand on his cheek and the other clutched his arm. She looked up at him, her mouth parted slightly, taking shallow breaths. Her eyes seemed to have a question in them, but also an affirmation. He leaned down and kissed her. "You want to?" he breathed against her lips.

She nodded her head a little. "I do want to," she whispered back. She moved her hands to the waistband of his shorts and pushed them down his hips. He balanced himself on the knee that was on the seat and quickly did the same with hers. He pressed against her gently, at first, feeling how wet she was. She moaned a little and he captured her lips with his, as he pushed into her, sliding his leg back so that he could lay on top of her.

As he pressed in deeper, it almost felt like an electric charge went through him. She slid her arms around his back and arched into him. He had her trapped under him, his legs around her, so that she couldn't do much more than bend her knees slightly. It felt like she was holding him more tightly and snugly inside her. He was right on the edge already, so his movements were quick but powerful. She whispered his name over and over. He quickened his rhythm, then felt her arch into him again as she tightened around him. He couldn't think of anything else except how tight she was around him and how wet and warm she was and then suddenly she cried out, sliding her hands down over his ass, holding him tightly against her. Then he felt himself let go and he shouted out her name as he drove deep inside her.

He collapsed around her, both of them breathing hard. Then he chuckled softly against her shoulder. "My dear, I don't think we're teenagers anymore," he said between breaths.

He could feel her smile against his chest. "But it felt really good," she said.

He lifted his head and looked down at her. "That is definitely true." He leaned down and gave her a hard kiss, then gingerly lifted himself up and then sat down hard on the seat, against the door, just as she pulled her legs up. As he pulled up his shorts, he watched as she did the same, struggling a little bit. He laughed then. "Maybe we're too old and not limber enough for this," he said.

She made a face and smacked his arm. "Speak for yourself, you stiff old man." He raised an eyebrow and winked at her. She smirked. "No pun intended."

He laughed out loud, then pressed a hard kiss against her lips and put his arm around her, pulling her back against him. "Maybe that wasn't the best idea. Anyone could have walked up on us," he said.

She nodded. "True," she said thoughtfully. She turned slightly so she could look up at him and she had an impish look on her face. "But isn't it fun sometimes to live on the edge?"

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Are you serious?"

She blushed and shrugged. "Maybe, a little bit." She swept her arm around. "I mean, it _is_ dark, and there's no one else here. We never see anyone else here. So why not?" She nudged him with her elbow. "Are you saying you're not onboard with a little risky business?"

He laughed then. "Well, clearly I was okay with it, since I was the one who initiated it." He planted a light kiss on her cheek. " _You're_ the one who surprised me by being okay with it."

" _You_ were the one who's ass was on display," she said, laughter in her voice. "I was all covered up. By _you_."

He pulled her in close, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I guess you're right," he said. "Now we'll know that the great outdoors is fair game for sexual shenanigans though."

She lifted her finger and waved it back and forth. "Only if there's no chance of being seen. That's the caveat." She turned then so she was almost facing him. "I love making love with you. No matter when or where." She gave him a teasing smile. "You scratch my itch."

He grinned. "As do you, my dear. As do you." She turned a little more, one leg tucked underneath her and the other draped over his thigh, her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his chest and he held her close, as they sat together quietly. They didn't have much time left before she had to leave, so he concentrated on the feel of her in his arms.

* * *

He lay awake for a long time that night. Seeing Connie again, even for just a short while, knowing he was going to see her again the next day, made his heart explode with happiness. He hadn't been sure what it might feel like, if it would feel different. Truthfully, he wasn't sure, mostly, about her. After every hiatus, every holiday break, it always felt like she had some difficulty with the transition from everything in LA to the more casual lifestyle in Nashville. Even though she was from a pretty small city in the western part of Virginia, it was in LA that she'd felt most alive. She'd told him once that, even though she had always had her heart set on New York City, it turned out LA felt like home. Although he'd lived in the LA area for many years, he knew he'd never felt the same.

She had enthusiastically welcomed him, though, in more ways than one. He smiled to himself as he thought about them having sex in the backseat of his car, as though they were frisky teenagers. He listened to Patty's slow, even breathing and sighed. She had relaxed since he'd gotten back from the UK leg of the cast tour. She wasn't angry all the time and she definitely didn't seem to watch his every move. He wasn't at all sure how much longer he'd be able to do this, though. Addie's high school graduation had seemed like, for a while, the logical break. He had no idea, though, how long the show would go on. Of course, if the show kept going, there was no guarantee there would always be a place for Deacon, and he certainly would hate to see it end. It seemed that CMT was committed to them, but he'd also learned never to get too comfortable.

His thoughts turned back to Connie then. When he really thought hard about it, the two of them would have to work through logistics, like where would they live and what that all might look like, but mostly he had put that aside, focusing instead on the right now. He looked forward to seeing her the next day, but then she'd be gone again, and he had no idea when he would see her again or even how he would work that out. While he felt like she'd built a life in Nashville and had good friends in town, he couldn't imagine that she'd come visit often. And although she was enjoying taking some time off and focusing on some of the other things she was passionate about, he knew it wouldn't be long before she was snapped up – maybe by movies, maybe by another series. Or both. He rubbed his face and then closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

* * *

It was late morning when he reached for Blue's leash. The dog instantly was at attention and bounded over to him. He chuckled and gave Blue's head a rub. "Ready to run, buddy?" he asked. Blue wagged his tail, his tongue hanging from his open mouth. "Guess so, huh?" He hooked the leash to Blue's collar and grabbed his hat, shaking it out and sliding it over his head.

"You headed out now?" He turned and saw Patty come out of the office and over to the kitchen. "I was hoping maybe you'd wait until later, so Addie and I could come too." He froze, not knowing what to say. This could be a disaster. He had no idea if she would want to come anyway and how he would possibly deter her from coming. She sighed. "But I'm meeting some friends for lunch." She smiled. "You and Blue have a good run though."

He silently breathed a sigh of relief. _That was close._

* * *

When he got to the river, he and Blue started down the path with a gentle run, slowly picking up the pace. They took a couple loops up and back on the path and then he hunkered down along the edge of the water, letting Blue wade out as far as his leash would let him. It was a hot, muggy summer day, and he was glad the area was shaded. Particularly this time of year, the trees had leafed out so much that they almost formed a complete canopy over the area, with just a few spots where the sun got in.

She hadn't been sure exactly when they'd get there, so he stood and focused on the water flowing past him, listening to the breeze rustle the leaves, feeling the humidity as it seemed to sit on his skin, trying not to count the seconds and the minutes. He breathed in deeply, just letting himself wait.

Suddenly a loud voice came from behind him. "Chip! Chip!" He turned to see Yoby racing down the path towards him, his arms outstretched and a wide smile on his face. He glanced up to see Connie standing at the point where the path widened out, a smile on her face as she watched her son running towards him.

He looked back at Yoby. "Yobes! You're back!" He caught Yoby just as he approached, lifting him up in the air, then setting him back down. "How you doing, buddy?"

"Great!" Yoby cried. He lifted his hands then and they did a high five. "Chip, I saw the eclipse!" Yoby was still shouting, as he often did when he got excited.

"You did? What did you think?"

Yoby smiled. "It was _awesome_! Did you see it?"

He nodded. "I did. Watched it with…my daughter." Patty had been there too, of course, and he lifted his eyes to Connie's, but she just smiled. He looked back at Yoby. "Did you go with your mom?"

Yoby shook his head. "Nah. I went with my friends."

Connie walked up to the two of them then. "He wanted to go with his buddies from school," she said, a protective hand on her son's shoulder. She made a face. "Not with his _mom_." She reached out then, rubbing her hand on the back of his arm. "How are you?" Her eyes had a sparkle to them and he knew she was thinking about the night before.

He smiled. "Glad to see you. See you both."

"Can I take Blue?" Yoby asked then.

He nodded. "Yeah, but stay close," he said, leaning over to unhook Blue from his leash. He watched Yoby and his dog walk down close to the river, Yoby's hand on Blue's back. Then he looked back at Connie, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. He smiled. "I'm glad to see you," he said again, and then brushed her lips with a kiss.

She put her arm around his waist and then pressed her other hand against his chest. "I'm glad you could come today," she said, looking up at him. "Yoby was so excited about seeing you." Her eyes twinkled again and a smile played on her lips. "And I was too, of course."

He breathed in and put his other arm around her, pulling her into his embrace. They stood that way for a moment and then he let go, letting her take a step away. Her hair was in a ponytail and he reached out and wrapped a strand around his finger. She turned to look at him and his heart turned over. She looked young again, rested and relaxed. Not that she hadn't before she left Nashville, but even more now. Her eyes were clear, her skin lightly touched with sun, a freshness to her that he realized had not been there the last year and a half she was on the show. It made him feel bad that he had been so angry with her.

He kissed her on the forehead. "I'm sorry."

She frowned. "What for?"

"For being a jerk." She looked confused. "When I kept getting pissed about you leaving."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Okay." She took his hand. "Maybe I would have felt the same way if it had been you that left."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. You're always so, I don't know, thoughtful about that kind of stuff. You look for the best in people."

"You do too, silly." She put her arms around his waist. "I've always thought that about you. I've told you that."

"But you wouldn't have been a jerk to me."

She smiled. "You don't know that." She paused. "You know, what I've realized is that being without you is hard. So I understand that, for _you_ , the idea of being without _me_ was hard. _Is_ hard."

He felt a little overwhelmed by her understanding. He kissed her. "I don't deserve you," he said.

She wrinkled her forehead. "Why do you say that? I'm just like everyone else. I'm not special."

He smiled at her. "See? Now that's just not true. You're _very_ special."

She just smiled at him and turned in his arms so they could watch Yoby and Blue.

* * *

As they walked back up the path towards their cars, she stopped. "I want a picture," she said.

He frowned slightly. "Really?"

She nodded and smiled. "Of you, Yoby and Blue."

He raised an eyebrow. "No selfie?"

She shook her head. "Something to remember this day by. A day with my two favorite guys. Please?"

"Are you gonna post it somewhere?"

She shrugged. "Probably. I mean, we crossed paths while I was in town."

"Some people might not believe that."

She smiled. "Why wouldn't they? I'm sure they'll think you weren't here alone. Right?"

He thought about that for a minute. Patty was the only one who 'knew', but she would never really talk about it with him. Her response was to make it appear they were happy together, something that always felt like a knife to his heart. He often wondered what Connie really thought about all that, but then he thought she probably didn't even look at it. She was the least interested person in social media he thought he'd ever met. He was the one who'd convinced her, after all, that she needed to be on Twitter. She didn't care for it and mostly let someone on her team post things for her. It was rare that she even tweeted her own responses. Instagram was more her style, where she could just post pictures. Even then, she wasn't usually doing it herself. Her private account, which he followed with his own private account, was where she was more open. He shrugged. "I guess you're right," he said.

"Would it be a problem for you? I won't post it if you think it would."

He shook his head. "You can do what you want." He smiled. "So what kind of picture do you want?"

She smiled. "Maybe just you, Yoby, and Blue, standing on the path, right there." She pointed.

"Yoby, let's let your mom take a picture of us, okay?"

"Yes!" Yoby cried, punching his little fist in the air. Connie directed them to where she wanted them to stand, then pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Okay, y'all," she said with a smile. "Give me a smile." She took a picture and then, he found out later, when he and Yoby both stuck their tongues out, she took another one. "That was great!" she said, with a huge smile, clapping her hands together.

"I wanna see!" Yoby said, so she showed them the picture where they were smiling.

"Pretty good, huh?" she asked Yoby and he nodded vigorously.

She then looked up at him. "I hate that we have to go," she said.

"Me too," he said. He breathed in. "When will I….?"

She smiled sadly. "I don't know. We'll have to figure something out."

He put his arm around her and pulled her in, kissing her forehead and then leaning his cheek against the top of her head. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "Yeah," he said finally. "I'm gonna come up with something. Some way, somehow, I'll get to you."

She wrapped her arms around him. "Promise me we won't lose each other."

"We won't, baby. I promise." Then he took her hand and the four of them walked slowly up the path. When she and Yoby were in the car, he leaned in the window, his hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her to him for a long kiss. He finally let her go, then gave her one last hard kiss. When he looked in her eyes, he saw tears rimming her eyes. "I love you, Connie. We can do this."

She nodded. "I know," she said. "And I love you too."

He looked back at Yoby. "See ya, Yobes."

"Bye, Chip!"

She pulled him to her for one last, lingering kiss and then she started the car and pulled out to the road. He stood watching as she drove off and then stood there a while longer, until Blue tugged on his leash and brought him back to the present. He sighed deeply and then trudged over to his car.

* * *

September came and went. He went back to work. it became clear the writers intended for Deacon to move on in a romantic way – something he disagreed with – and that was when he wished Connie were still there. At the very least, she would have pushed him to stand up for his character and the history and mythology the two of them had created in order to play out their story, no matter what road it took. While he still loved the concept of the show, and definitely loved the paycheck that came with it, he found it harder and harder to put his heart into what he said publicly. He had a role though, as the show cheerleader, and he was a professional, so he continued to do his best to do what he could, for himself and everyone else around him.

He still found it difficult not to talk about the character of Rayna and, by extension, Connie, so the tension between him and Patty had not completely dissipated. It had ratcheted up in the immediate aftermath of her seeing the photo Connie posted on her public Instagram. It had been unpleasant and, when they weren't fighting, they weren't speaking to each other unless they were around the kids. Eventually it lessened, but it left him feeling like he was alone. It wasn't the same with Connie gone. He felt like he'd lost his best friend, as well as the woman he loved. He was still drinking too much and too often, trying to numb the lonely feelings. He recognized it, but didn't really care. It almost seemed like that brief little interlude in August had made things worse instead of better, at least emotionally.

And then he got a call from 'Whose Line Is It Anyway?' to do a guest appearance for the upcoming season that would air in 2018. His schedule was brutal, since he was now being asked to carry the load on the show. Connie was gone and Hayden had negotiated less screen time. Her personal life was still a mess and he knew that, didn't begrudge her needing time, but it had felt overwhelming, and not always in a good way. It helped him not to focus so much on Connie's absence but it hadn't helped the loneliness. So getting that call had been a gift.

He'd already done one guest appearance on the show, with the promise of more in the future, but this one came at the right time, as a respite from the heavy drama of 'Nashville' and at home. He could only do it on a weekend, which they were glad to accommodate. But then he had to tell Patty.

"I'm going out next weekend to do a 'Whose Line' episode," he said, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

She narrowed her eyes. "Where? LA?" He nodded. "I'll come with you."

"Addie has a game next weekend," he said.

"I can miss it."

He shook his head. "One of us needs to be here. Since I'm not, it needs to be you." She looked agitated and like she wanted to argue, so he decided to head it off before it started. "You need to stay here. It's just a weekend."

She frowned. "But you'll be there alone."

He breathed out. "I don't need a babysitter, Patty. And more importantly, I don't _want_ one. You just can't go with me everywhere I go."

"So I'm just supposed to let you go alone?" She paused. "Is _she_ going to be out there?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Don't go there. Not unless you really want me to answer that."

She crossed her arms over her chest. He waited. Finally she turned and walked off.

* * *

It had been a long day. He'd had a short scene to film that morning that didn't run too much over. Fortunately it was a location shoot at a school in Nashville, so he wasn't too far away from the airport. He'd ended up with a decent cushion before the flight took off. He would go straight to the studio, after he landed, for the filming, then head to Connie's house. She was excited for him to come, although she was disappointed it was before her move to her new house. She'd told him all about it and couldn't wait to move in.

He couldn't immediately fall asleep on the plane. He felt wired. Not only was his shooting schedule more demanding already, but the anticipation of two nights with Connie was exhilarating. She had come home from Boston just a couple days earlier, where she had been filming for a new series coming out later in the fall.

" _You know I was born in Boston, so it's like going home," she told him._

" _Really? And how long did you live there?" He knew it wasn't long and he liked teasing her._

" _Ha, ha, smarty pants, not long. I don't even remember it, but I was still born there. So I claim it," she said, amusement in her voice._

He smiled to himself. He was looking forward to hearing about it, plus the new project she'd just gotten that she wanted to tell him about. As always, a lot of people at the airport and in the gate area had recognized him and he'd smiled, chatted them up, signed autographs, and posed for selfies. But he wanted time to himself on the plane, so he'd paid extra for one of the first boarding positions, and when he got to a seat, he'd put on his headphones and pulled his ball cap down low over his face. When he finally did doze off, it seemed like it was mere minutes from when they landed.

Before he pulled out of the rental car lot, he called her. "Hey, I just landed."

"How late do you think you'll be?"

"We're supposed to start at seven. So maybe finish up at eight or so. Then however long it takes me to get there."

"I can't wait to see you," she said and he caught the excitement in her voice.

"Me too, baby," he said. "So let me get on the road and I'll see you later tonight."

* * *

It took longer to get to her house than he'd expected. It was Friday night in LA and traffic was still heavy. It was almost 9:30 when he pulled in the driveway of her rental house. She was in the Los Feliz area, not far from the house she would soon be moving to. The porch light was on, as well as several lights across the front of the house. He got out of the car and grabbed his overnight bag, then walked up to the front door. Almost as soon as he rang the bell, she answered. She pulled him into the house and he swept her into his arms and kissed her.

When he let her go, she laughed a little breathlessly. "I'm so glad you're finally here," she said, a huge smile on her face.

"Me too. Traffic was a cluster fuck."

"It always is." She took his hand and led him towards the back of the house. "Are you hungry?"

He smiled. "For you," he said.

She laughed. "We have plenty of time for that. What about food? I have some leftover Thai."

"I'll take it." He followed her to the kitchen and his first thought was that it was lost on her. It was truly a cook's kitchen, which meant that it would rarely be used. He was still amused when he remembered her inviting him over for a home cooked meal, early in the first season, even though she avoided cooking of almost any kind. Of course it turned out that wasn't the real reason she'd invited him over. He sat at the kitchen bar while she heated up a plate and then set it in front of him. She got a bottle of his favorite beer out of her fridge and set it next to him. Then she sat on the adjacent stool and watched him as he devoured his food and drank the beer in three swallows. When he finished, he looked at her and smiled. "That was great, baby. Hit the spot."

She made a face. "I've been slaving over it all day." He leaned towards her and, putting a hand on the back of her neck, pulled her to him for a kiss. When he let her go, she grabbed his hand in both of hers. "Are you tired?"

He shrugged. "A little. But seeing you has revived me."

She bit down on her bottom lip for a second. "I don't even want to pretend we're going to sit around and catch up. I was thinking I could just show you around my bedroom."

He grinned. "You could just show me around your bed. Or what it's like under the sheets."

She laughed. "I like your idea better." She hopped off the stool and headed for the stairs. He followed, stopping only long enough to grab his overnight bag.

* * *

Sliding between the cool, soft sheets of her bed felt like heaven. He sank his head into the feather pillows and closed his eyes to feel the breeze from the ceiling fan. He was looking forward to feeling her skin against his and he smiled to himself. The day was catching up with him. He'd been up early for filming, then flew across country. The nap he had on the plane had just been a brief respite. As always, doing improv meant having to be focused and present, both mentally and physically. The format didn't allow for him to not be sharp. But it took more out of him than he'd realized, as soon as he'd hit the bed.

"I'm going to get some water. Be right back," were the last words he heard her say. He opened his eyes enough to see her as he nodded, then closed them again. He never heard her come back.


	29. Chapter 29

When he opened his eyes, he was disoriented. The room was bright, sunshine peeking through the curtains on the windows. He breathed in sharply. As he fully wakened, he was conscious of the comfortable bed, and then remembered it was Connie's bed. He looked over to her side of the bed, but she wasn't there. He sat up quickly, looking around the room for any sign of her. "Connie?" he called out, thinking she might have been in the bathroom, but got no answer.

He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and stretched, thinking he felt completely refreshed, but he was afraid he'd fallen asleep on her. He reached for the underwear and slacks he'd worn the night before and pulled them on, then padded out to the hall and down the stairs. He heard a noise and followed in that direction, finding the kitchen. Connie was standing by the sliders, a mug of coffee in her hand, looking outside.

"Morning," he said.

She turned towards him and smiled. "Morning, sleepyhead."

He gave her a sheepish look. "Did I fall asleep?"

She nodded, her eyes dancing merrily. "Oh, yeah. When I came back upstairs with water, you were dead to the world. I didn't have the heart to do anything else but let you sleep."

He sighed. "But you could have woken me up. We don't have that much time…."

She waved him off. "It's okay. You obviously were exhausted." She set her mug down on the island and walked over to him, lifting her arms up and wrapping them around his neck. He put his hands on her waist. "Besides, it just felt like something so normal." He could see a flash of wistfulness in her eyes and then it was gone. "I got to sleep next to you and that was enough. I mean, after all, we haven't gotten to do that in a long time."

She was right about that. He leaned in and kissed her. "At least we have all day today," he said.

"Yes, we do."

He looked around then. "Where's Yoby?"

"My friend Cory has him for the weekend. They're going to do manly stuff." She had lowered her voice, trying to sound more masculine, and then she laughed. "I know he would have loved to see you, and you're so great with him, but I wanted you all to myself." She wrinkled her nose teasingly. "I needed to be able to sleep with you in a proper bed. I just didn't know I really was just going to _sleep_ with you."

"I'm sorry, baby." He kissed her again. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

She threaded her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. "I'm holding you to that."

He glanced over in the direction of the coffee machine. "How about coffee first, since we have all day? I think I'm feeling the jet lag a bit, no matter how long I slept. And what time is it anyway?"

She stepped out of his embrace and turned towards the coffee machine. "Not as late as you think. Just after eight," she said, looking back at him over her shoulder. He watched as she opened the cabinet and pulled out a mug, then filled it with coffee. She turned back to him, holding it in her hands, a sweet smile on her face, and he knew exactly what she meant when she described this as normal. As she approached him, her eyes grew concerned. She handed him the mug, then rested her palm on his face. "You okay?"

He nodded, momentarily mute, feeling an inexplicable lump in his throat. He took a deep breath. "Yeah," he said finally. "Just thinking about what you said, about it being something normal."

She smiled again. "Well, let's go do something else completely normal." She reached for her coffee and took his free hand. "I have a nice garden out back. Quiet, private. Let's just sit out there for a bit and enjoy being together."

He followed her outside. There was a pool and a bluestone patio, with a few patio chairs set out in a straight line facing the pool. She was right, it was quiet and serene. It was a warm morning, one of those perfect mid-fall LA days. It was tempting to just stay in a place like this, not go home. He felt his emotions well up and he breathed in deeply, trying to keep them at bay. He looked over at her and smiled, reaching for her hand. "This _is_ nice," he said. "Normal." He sighed. "I haven't had normal in a really long time." She squeezed his hand. "I had okay, pleasant, uncomplicated." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "Now it's tense, angry, cold. But here I feel like I'm at peace."

She set her mug down on the patio and stood up. She took his mug and set it next to hers. Then she sat on his lap, her arms around his neck, pressing her face against his cheek. He slid his arms around her waist and closed his eyes, breathing in the fragrant air, letting his hand drift down to her leg so he could feel her soft skin. She kissed him on the cheek. "One day we'll be able to do this whenever we want."

He turned to look at her. "Can you hang in there a little longer?"

She dropped one hand to his chest. "Can you?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet.

He smiled. "Baby, if you're at the end of the rainbow, I can do it." He rubbed her leg. "So what are we doing today?"

She smiled impishly. "I was thinking maybe we start with a long shower" – he raised his eyebrows – "and then plan to spend most of the day in my bed. How does that sound?"

He kissed her. "Sounds like something I wanna get started on right now."

She laughed. "I was hoping you'd say that." She got off his lap and took his hand, pulling him up on his feet. Then she ran towards the house, laughing as she did, and he followed behind her, laughing as well.

This would be a very nice weekend indeed.

* * *

Later that morning, he laid back on the soft feather pillows, tangled up with her and her soft, cool sheets, his arms spread out on either side of him, fighting to catch his breath. He could feel a bead of sweat run down the side of his face and he could feel the sheets sticking to him in places where she wasn't. His heart was beating hard, as though he'd just run a 10k, which he actually kind of felt like he had. He started to chuckle, letting his arms wind around her, feeling her breathing hard against his chest. She raised her head up to look at him, smiling. "Holy shit, Connie," he said, still a little breathless.

She laughed, rubbing her hand over his damp skin. "What the hell was that?" she asked, as she leaned over to kiss him.

He put his hand on the back of her head, holding her in place as he kissed her hungrily. When he finally, reluctantly, let go of her lips, he shook his head. "I don't even know. Except that you were, well, I'm not even sure _what_ you were."

She laughed again, shrugging a little. "It just felt like it had been so long and I just needed you…everywhere." Her cheeks were already pink, but she blushed a little more.

He grinned. "Well, I do believe I did get you…everywhere. And more than once in some places."

She covered her face with her hand and fell back on the bed. Then she dropped her hand and looked back at him. "That was pretty incredible, wasn't it?"

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He smiled down at her. " _You_ are pretty incredible." Suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. "I miss you."

She reached up and scratched at his face gently. "But you're right here. How can you be missing me right now?"

He breathed in. "You know what I mean. I worry about how long we might have to wait." He saw a shadow cross her eyes.

"I do too." She sighed. "Not because I don't think we can go the distance, but because I know it means I won't see you often. It's why I feel like I have to stay busy all the time."

He nodded. "I'm working more than I ever have now." He let his fingers trail across her arm. "So tell me about this new show. What's it called again?"

She smiled. "SMILF."

"Okay, so I know what a milf is," he said with a grin. "What's the S for?"

She screwed up her face. "Well, single mostly. The main character is single. And a mom. But it's also Southie, which is for South Boston. I kind of like single myself."

"Hmm. A single mother I'd like to fuck." He looked at her. "I guess that's you."

She laughed. "What I like about it the most is that I'm not a regular. So I'm not in every episode. And it's a half hour, so not nearly the commitment. Just four episodes. And I've actually already finished those, which is a good thing."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's what I wanted to tell you when you got here. It looks like I'm going to do something with Ryan Murphy. You know how much I adore working with him and he wants me to do this show that's about first responders. Firefighters, police officers, 911 operators. A real action based drama. Very different for me."

That seemed so out of character for her, but then she'd said more than once that she wanted to do something very removed from her characters on 'Friday Night Lights' and 'Nashville'. The whole thing about challenging herself. "So you gonna be a firefighter or a cop?"

She laughed. "Neither one. I'm going to be a 911 operator." She put a hand on his arm. "Chip, this is going to be so different for me. It's not a glamour role and Ryan wants everything to be realistic, so I'll be sitting in front of this phone set up and multiple computer screens. It's a little intimidating, I have to admit."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "You'll be brilliant. Like you always are."

She shook her head, looking skeptical. "I don't know. I've spent some time with some 911 operators and that's a really hard job. And you have to be so cool under pressure. And soothing. Think about it. A 911 operator can't get agitated or emotional, because the person on the other end of the line is highly emotional and maybe hysterical. It's pretty daunting, I have to tell you."

"When do you start with that one?"

"In just a couple weeks. The good news is that it's just ten episodes. And I only signed for a year. No more of that seven year stuff." She shook her head.

He felt a knot in his stomach. This was the real deal. Somehow he thought that if she didn't go back to TV or a TV series, then maybe there would be more time for them. He wasn't really sure why he believed that, but he guessed it was better than the alternative, that she was creating this new life apart from him.

"What's wrong, babe?" He focused back on her and could see the worry in her eyes.

He shook his head and made himself smile. "Nothing. Not a thing." He pushed her hair off her face. "I was just trying to imagine you saying '911, what's your emergency'. You'll be the hottest operator ever."

She got a playful look on her face then. "So, can I solve your emergency?"

He laughed. "You mean my sexual emergency?"

She reached under the sheet and stroked him gently. "I think so. Seems like I need to perk you up." She smiled at him and he could feel himself get hard.

He rolled on top of her, threading his fingers with hers, pinning her arms above her head. He smirked. "You ready for me to take care of _you_?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She arched her back. "Oh, yes, I am." He pushed inside her forcefully and she let out a long, low moan, wrapping her legs around his waist. He leaned down and kissed her and she responded enthusiastically. He held himself steady inside her and, when he pulled his lips from hers, he kissed her gently on her forehead. "Fuck me, Chip," she whispered. "Fuck me good." He smiled at her and gave her what she asked for.

* * *

They headed down the stairs to get an early lunch. She made sandwiches and he felt his eyes get a little misty as he thought about how nice and normal it felt. He felt a twinge of guilt that he didn't turn around and head straight back home, but it had been something he couldn't pass up. He was leaving that night on the red-eye and he was already regretting that. He had no idea when he might see her again. He took a deep breath, thinking he just needed to make the most of this and be glad for the time he had with her.

She turned around and put a plate in front of him. She smiled at him and he thought, as he often did, how gorgeous she was. She had on a pair of red glasses and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She still had a little glow about her, which he told himself he'd put there. She had that just been fucked look that made her look unbelievably sexy. "What?" she said.

He refocused. "What?"

"You looked lost in thought." She walked around and sat down next to him with her sandwich, turned slightly towards him. "What were you thinking about?"

He smiled and ran his hand over her leg. "You. How you looked just before we came down here." She blushed. He breathed in. "I love you, Connie."

She leaned forward and put her hand on his cheek. "I love you too," she said. Then she sighed. "I wish you didn't have to leave."

He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "Me too, baby," he said.

She set her sandwich down and reached for his hands. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to do that."

He frowned. "Do what?"

"I don't want to make you feel, I don't know, pressured."

He shook his head. "I don't. Well, maybe I do, a little bit. But that's not on you." He turned his hands in hers. "I wish I didn't have to leave either. But soon. Soon I won't have to."

She looked like she was hesitating and he waited her out. "What does that look like to you? Now, I mean."

"Well, if she doesn't tell me to go, then my plan is the same. Leave after Addie goes to college."

"How would we navigate living apart?"

He thought for a minute. "I think we keep going with our careers, but we spend as much time together as we can. And some day, I guess, we'd have to think about where we want to end up."

"I know you love Nashville," she said pensively.

He nodded. "I do. But we'll figure it out. Maybe this is home base and we have a little apartment or condo in Nashville. Or vice versa."

She smiled. "Yoby would love to be back _home_ , as he says."

"I would love that too. But I know you love it here."

She shrugged. "It isn't so much that, but I _have_ lived here a very long time and I have friends here. Not that I don't in Nashville, but my closest friends are here. And the kind of work I do is pretty much here, where you have a whole thing going in Nashville." Then she smiled again. "But you're right. We'll figure out what works. As long as we're together, right?"

He nodded. "Right."

She breathed out. "Okay, so I'm not all that hungry anymore," she said and then she got a sassy look on her face. "Except for _you_."

He felt himself start to get hard when she said that. He got off the stool and pulled her up and into his arms. "Funny, I'm only hungry for _you_ ," he said, nuzzling her neck. He pressed himself against her and she laughed softly.

"I can _feel_ that," she said. "Why don't we go back upstairs then?"

He brushed his lips over hers. "I thought you'd never ask," he teased. She laughed and turned, taking his hand and leading him to the stairs.

* * *

He could tell the sun was getting lower in the sky. He felt a momentary melancholy, knowing it wouldn't be long until he'd have to leave for the airport. He'd gotten a red-eye return flight, wanting to spend as much time with Connie as he could. They couldn't really go anywhere outside of the house, without the risk of being recognized. He would be glad when that changed. They were in the home stretch now, but he truthfully felt like time was slowing down. Maybe it was because she was in LA and he was in Nashville. Maybe it was that there were a lot of logistical gymnastics that would be involved in seeing each other again, and those opportunities would likely be few and far between. Plus they would both be busy with their separate shows. He sighed.

She rolled onto her side then and frowned, reaching out to put a hand on her chest. "What's the matter?" she asked. He shook his head, not wanting to spoil the few remaining hours they had. "Don't do that, Chip. Talk to me."

He reached out and smoothed her hair back. "I'm just wondering how long it'll be before I can see you again."

She nodded. "I know. It's gonna be so much more complicated now. Plus we have the holidays coming up. We'll just have to talk more. We'll sync up our schedules so we can have longer conversations, stay connected."

"Do you really think that'll be enough?"

She smiled. "We've said before we're not all about the sex" – she leaned in and kissed him – "although it _is_ pretty amazing. But we'll stay connected. And we've got, what, less than a year? We can do this, babe. I know we can."

He threaded his fingers through her hair, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "You're right. I know."

They just laid there together and she rested her head on his chest as he put his arm around her. She looked up after a few minutes. "I think I'd like to order pizza," she said. "What do you think?"

He smiled. "I think that's a great idea."

She grinned. "Okay, I'll order. Can you stand no meat?"

He pretended he was really thinking about it, then smiled. "I guess I could go without."

She scrambled up from the bed then and he laid back against the pillows as he watched her walking naked across to her closet. _Damn, she's a sexy woman._ He smiled. When she walked out, she was tying a robe around herself. "I'm going downstairs and I'll order. You might want to take a shower. By then I bet the pizza will be here."

* * *

He fed her pizza and she fed him pizza. She wouldn't let him drink more than one beer. They laughed and they made out on the couch, like teenagers. She let him feel her up, pretending the whole time that she was scared to have him touch her. Then she put her hand over his erection and pulled it away quickly, as he called her a tease. They laughed some more and then he pushed her back and settled himself on top of her, peppering her face and mouth with kisses. Then he tickled her neck with his tongue and nibbled on her earlobes and she laughed at first, and then the laughter turned to quiet little moans.

They didn't bother going upstairs, just pulled off each other's clothes, and made love on the couch, afterwards wrapping themselves up in a throw she had over the back of the couch. He kissed her again, this time slowly, exploring her mouth and her lips and her tongue, and then finally just wrapping himself around her, holding her close.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice soft and sad.

He looked around and then spied a clock sitting on a side table. He squinted. "Looks like about 8:00," he said.

She rubbed her hand on his shoulder. "When do you have to leave?"

He sighed. "Probably in about an hour. My flight's at 11:00."

"What time do you get in?"

"Five-something."

"That's really early. I hope you get some sleep on the plane."

"Me too." He really didn't want to leave her. Period. But he still had a job and Addie was still at home and he knew he needed to finish what he'd started.

She brushed his hair back with her fingers. "I'm so glad you were able to come out here. This has been amazing." He kissed her and then they laid there together, not talking, just holding each other, postponing the inevitable. She took a deep breath then and he knew she was going to say something. "What will it be like?"

He didn't have to ask her what she meant. He knew. "It'll be like this sometimes. Actually, a lot of times." She smiled. "But it'll be all those normal things, like sitting on the patio drinking coffee, or going to the beach or to the river, depending on where we are. It'll mean we can go out together, to shows, to dinner, or just to a park. You can come with me when I'm performing. We'll raise Yoby together. Go to whatever it is he ends up wanting to do, sports or music or something else. We'll have holidays together, with my kids too, make new memories, new traditions. All those sorts of things. And we'll be doing them together, out in the open, out loud."

She reached up and ran her hand along his jawline. "I love you," she said, and he could hear tears in her voice. "And I love that."

He let his hand trail over her cheek and then threaded his fingers in her hair. He kissed her, softly, gently, then sighed. "I guess I should get dressed." She nodded, looking like she was going to cry. So he lifted himself off of her and sat on the edge of the couch, reaching for his clothes. He stood up and got dressed, not looking back at her, sure he would get too emotional. He sensed her getting up as well and he took his time buttoning his shirt. When he turned back to face her, she was dressed, her hair a sexy mess.

She smiled. "You should brush your hair or something," she said.

He started to finger comb it. "It looks that crazy?" he asked.

She nodded. "Kind of like it did that day Deacon came to rescue his girl." She smiled, a little shyly.

He smiled at her, but then it hit him that it had been the beginning of the end of her time on the show, when they had finally had the chance to fulfill all the dreams they'd had for their characters together. He swallowed over a lump in his throat. "Maybe he should have rescued her more often," he said, hearing the hoarseness in his voice.

* * *

She walked him to the door. Their hands were lightly touching each other and neither one said anything. When they got to the door, they turned to face each other. He set his overnight bag down and pulled her into his arms. She looked up at him. "I'll try and figure out a way I can do this again," he said. "I promise." She was quiet, just looking into his eyes, and he saw the dampness in hers.

She suddenly burst into tears and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close, letting her sob against his shoulder while he fought the inclination to join her. He needed to be strong for her this time. Finally her tears trailed off and her breathing was more normal and she looked back up at him. "I'm sorry for being such a blubbering mess, but I hate that you're leaving and that I don't know when I'll see you again. And I hate _still_ having to wait, because I'm ready _now_. We've waited so long and it just doesn't seem fair." She sighed. "I'm not putting this on you, I'm really not. But this is just…harder than I thought it would be."

He nodded. "I know. But, like you said, it's less than a year. And we'll figure it out. I'll try to work something out to see you again. And we'll talk. A lot."

She smiled bravely. "I know we will. I just…you know, it's just hard." Then she sighed. "I hate it, but I need to let you go or you'll miss your flight." She grabbed his hands. "I love you, Chip Esten. And I'll be waiting."

He kissed her. "I love you too, Connie Britton. I'll never stop thinking about you." He reluctantly let go of her hands and picked up his overnight bag, turning towards the door.

She grabbed his arm and he turned back to her. "Call me when you land. I know it'll be the middle of the night, but do it anyway."

He nodded, then put his free arm around her and held her tight. He then kissed her softly on the lips. "I'll call you," he whispered and then he turned and let himself out.

The entire drive to the airport and on the long flight home, he just felt numb.

* * *

When he got off the plane in Nashville, he walked over to one of the windows. There was the tiniest lightening of the sky, but the sun hadn't even hit the horizon yet. He pulled out his phone and called Connie. It rang three times before she answered. "Hey," she said, sounding sleepy. "You're home?"

He smiled to himself. "At the airport."

"Was the flight okay? Did you sleep?"

Tears filled his eyes suddenly and he wiped at his face with the back of his arm. "Kind of," he said. "But it felt lonely."

"I feel lonely too." He couldn't swallow over the lump in his throat. "You should get home and get some sleep, if you can."

"Yeah," he choked out.

"I love you," she said, her voice barely over a whisper.

"I love you too," he whispered. "Go back to sleep." He disconnected and then stood there for a moment, looking at his phone. Finally he breathed in deeply, then sighed, and headed for the terminal.

* * *

It was almost 6:30 when he pulled into the driveway. The house was dark, save for the porchlights and the light over the garage. He let himself in the kitchen, quietly closing the door. The light over the stove was on, but there was no movement in the house. He thought Blue was probably in the bedroom with Patty, or he might have barked his welcome and woken her up. He headed down the hall to the guest room, closing the door behind him. He crawled onto the bed, laying on his stomach, holding the pillow tightly.

He closed his eyes. He missed Connie tremendously. It had been such a gift to have that time with her. But now he was back in the real world, with all its complications, and he felt exhausted already just thinking about the delicate balance of his life in Nashville. More than anything, he wanted things to be resolved. He and Patty both deserved better than a life spent pretending to be happy and yet completely miserable in private. Even though she had never truly asked about Connie, it was there between them. He didn't like being dishonest, even to her. Maybe especially to her, because she had been there, supporting him, from the beginning. They did have three great kids together. And even though at one time they had missed the closeness they'd had before Addie got sick, over time they had settled into something that was comfortable and gradually stopped missing what they no longer had. He'd thought, more than once, that he probably could have lived like that forever. He hadn't been looking for more when he'd come to Nashville. Had never even considered that he might end up in a relationship with anyone, much less Connie Britton. He often thought about how much their relationship seemed to mirror Deacon and Rayna's. They had just known, immediately, that they were soul mates, meant to be together.

He rolled onto his back, his eyes wide open. Sometimes he felt guilty about all of it, especially about his kids. He wondered what they would think, when the day came. Taylor seemed like she sensed something but, like her mother, they'd never had a real conversation about it. Would they be angry? Would they understand? Would they blame him? Turn their backs on him? Would they understand what he'd done for them? How much he wanted to be sure to be present in their lives? He hated having missed Addie's soccer game and then he felt selfish because he'd put time with Connie over time with his daughter. In many ways, it was a no win situation. And he felt pulled between the two, not completely satisfying anyone. He sighed, then closed his eyes.

Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

* * *

After he got back from California, there was a decided frostiness in the air that hadn't been there before, even more than normal. Patty looked mad all the time and barely spoke to him unless the kids were around. He supposed he should feel guiltier about it. There had only been a couple of times when it had been obvious he was going to be with Connie and this had surely been the most in your face example of that. But she continued to perpetuate the myth of their relationship, buying tickets to events for them to attend together and be seen at together. She pressured him into posting things on social media he didn't want to post. He played his part though, smiled as though he were happy, pretending everything was fine.

He still wondered if she might kick him out. The only reason he was staying was for his kids, primarily Addie now. He was constantly on edge. Patty was getting more difficult to control. She showed her anger and irritation on her face when he talked about a song that was for Rayna or even when he just talked about the show. He was having to spend a lot of time calming her down, afraid that she might blow up. She had cultivated a kind of relationship with some of his fans and he was sure it was so she could keep him in line. She believed he would conform to what she wanted for fear of upsetting fans who were now invested in _their_ 'relationship'. She had created a myth that everyone believed in, or at least wanted to believe in. Sometimes he felt like a puppet in the fairy tale life she wanted them to portray.

He thought it was unfortunate, but he also knew he ultimately wouldn't let it stop him from leaving as soon as he could. He was conflicted about wanting the show to continue and needing it to end so he could make his escape. He did try to be pleasant when Addie was around and Patty seemed to as well. But he felt like he was wearing a strait jacket. Connie would be tied up on her new show within a couple weeks and then they both would be busy and connecting with each other would be harder. He was unhappy with the Deacon/Jessie storyline and so work was not always a safe haven. The actress was fine, although they were definitely not connected the way he and Connie were. Or even the way he and Clare or the Stella's were. It was hard trying to make it look like Deacon was infatuated or in like or whatever it was he was supposed to be.

One afternoon he came home after a very frustrating day. He and Kaitlyn had filmed a scene where their characters were reconnecting after an awkward phone call. He wanted to puke. He felt like he was being disloyal to Connie, which was ridiculous, he knew, but he just wished the writers had let Deacon grieve. The way _he_ was. When he walked into the kitchen he slammed his script down on the kitchen island and made an angry noise.

As he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, Patty walked into the kitchen. "What's going on?" she asked. When he looked at her, he could see her face looked pinched, that look she got whenever he was asked about Connie or his storyline without Rayna. Her eyes would go blank and her jaw would square off and he was always half expecting her to explode with her rage.

He pulled a bottle opener out of a drawer and popped the top off the bottle, lifting it to his mouth and taking a long swallow. Then he put it down on the counter, a little more forcefully than he'd meant to. "Just stuff at work," he said. He knew she still read every script, still generally knew what he'd be working on each day. She'd said nothing, up to this point, about Deacon's relationship with someone new.

"Filming with the new girl, I take it," she said, her voice flat. He wanted to laugh and say Kaitlyn was hardly the 'new girl' anymore, but he bit back the retort. Her eyes turned steely then. "Does it feel like you're cheating on her?"

He drank from the bottle, then frowned at her. "Like I'm cheating on Kaitlyn?" He knew that wasn't what she meant, but he'd had enough of her passive-aggressiveness and decided to be obtuse. In the last several weeks, his resolve to try to make nice had dissolved. He knew he bore a lot of the responsibility for that, ever since the weekend he'd spent with Connie, but it was just too much.

She scowled. "No. _Her_."

He sighed with irritation. "Why don't you just say _her_ name?" he asked. "I know who you're talking about, but it just feels like you're trying to talk in circles, get me to do or say something that's just not gonna happen."

"Are you going to try to tell me you didn't plan that weekend in California? Did you even have a spot on the show?"

He rolled his eyes. "You saw the deposit from that, Patty, so yes, of course I did the show."

Her eyes narrowed. "But you stayed in her house, in her bed, with her son there."

He wasn't going to tell her Yoby hadn't been there. "What is it you want me to say, Patty? And why can't you say what you really want to?" He took another swallow from his beer and then slammed the bottle on the counter. She flinched. He threw his arms out to his side. "Just kick me out, Patty," he said angrily. "I'm not sure anymore why you don't. You're angry with me all the time, even though we both know that what _was_ between us" – he waved a hand back and forth between the two of them – "has been long gone. We've made it work, not that it was really hard to do it most of the time. We've been good parents to our kids. But we're getting to the end here. Why not just say what you want?"

She wrapped her arms around her waist. She seemed to almost shut down, but she was still stiff and angry. "Why don't you say what _you_ want, Chip? _You're_ the one who's been having an… well, you're the one who has made this nearly impossible. Why don't _you_ leave?"

He almost laughed. She tiptoed around what was really happening. Not that he really wanted to have a brutally honest conversation with her about Connie. He didn't really want to hurt her and so he'd tried to give her an out, a way to save face. Instead, it felt like all she was trying to do was tie him closer to her, instead of pushing him away. "I'm here for the kids," he said. "I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would put them first, always. I'm not going to walk away from them as long as any of them live in this house."

She stood there for a moment, her lips pressed tightly together, her stance stiff and tense. Finally she said, "Well, neither am I," and then she turned and walked away.

* * *

They got the news right before the Thanksgiving break. CMT was cancelling the show, along with all its other scripted programming. He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He'd gotten comfortable. Not having ever had the luxury of a steady role over a number of years – and a lead role, at that – he had gotten comfortable. Too comfortable. Instead of chasing other acting opportunities during a hiatus, he'd focused on his music. Writing songs, recording songs, performing anywhere he could. He wouldn't trade that necessarily. Music was his passion, it was his true love. But with the end of the show – and this would be the very end, he knew – he felt a little rudderless.

He felt some panic about losing his job. Even though they had another several months of filming, there was, finally, a hard end. There would be no saving the show again. It was over. He felt unsettled, because he wasn't prepared. He'd have to tell Patty and the kids and they might worry, about him, about what it meant for them. But he also felt a sense of freedom. The timing was pretty perfect, as though it had been written in the stars.

It would definitely make things easier. Once the show was over, Addie would be off to school, and he would be free to move on. That part felt really good. He'd finally have the chance to build that life he wanted with Connie. But he would also miss this place. As he looked around the Bluebird set, where they all were, he saw some tears, he saw a lot of long faces, and easily as many shocked looks. He imagined a lot of the cast would have mixed feelings as well. Some would be free to pursue music, others would gravitate to other acting jobs. The crew might scatter. Some wouldn't want to leave this place and would have to find a different path. Others could probably catch on with other shows farther afield.

For a brief moment, he blamed Connie. Not necessarily her per se, but her leaving. It had been his fear from the start, that without her the show would lose its way. But as quickly as the thought came to him, it vanished. She had done what she felt she needed to do and he knew her well enough to know she didn't come to her decision easily. Standing a little beyond the immediate reaction, he knew she'd been right to go. She'd given it a hundred percent for those last nine episodes. They'd made a lot of magic together on screen, that he knew for sure. He still missed her, of course, felt a little off center without her, chafed against some of the storylines thrown at him, but he would survive. Connie would be there and they'd finally get to live the life they wanted.

He found Callie after the announcement, after people started to drift away. "Hey, Callie," he said.

She turned and smiled at him. "Hey, Chip." She put a hand on his arm. "I know this was hard news, for everyone, but maybe especially for you. I've always thought of you as the heart and soul of the show and I know how much it's meant to you."

Inexplicably he felt tears in his eyes and he breathed in slowly, not wanting to show all his emotions here. He nodded. "Yeah, it's been a game changer for me, that's for sure. It'll be hard to leave it." In that moment, he realized the truth in his words. No matter how things played out, he had loved this show from the beginning. It had given him a steady paycheck, an opportunity to play music and, even more than that, an entrée into the world of songwriters and performers on the local scene. He would miss it, maybe more than he wanted to admit. He cleared his throat. "So, what do you think about trying to get Connie back, at least to tie things up? I know the fans would really appreciate it." There was still a lot of anger about how things went down when Connie left the show and he thought – hoped – it would heal some of the hurt if she came back.

She looked uncertain. "I don't know if that's possible, you know? I know she was committed to the integrity of the story we did and, as you know, Rayna really is dead. I don't even know how we'd bring her back, to be honest. Or if she'd even agree to it." She shrugged. "She really wanted to leave, Chip, put it behind her. I'm sure _you_ know that. And I know she's got other things on her plate, so I don't even know that anything we came up with would fit into her schedule.

He sighed. Everything she'd said was true, but he really did feel like it was important. He would say something to Connie too, but he wouldn't tell Callie that. "At least think about it. I think it would give us a boost."

"Oh, I will. Just don't get your hopes up."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "I get it." He gave her a weak smile. "Thanks, Callie." He watched her walk away, still trying to sort through all the emotions that were zinging around inside him like a pinball machine.

He needed to call Connie.


	30. Chapter 30

He got in his car and immediately pulled out his phone and called Connie. He thought she might be on set, but he could at least leave her a message. She had complained to him recently that her filming schedule with '9-1-1' was every bit as long and difficult as her 'Nashville' schedule, maybe even worse. They were constantly running behind and working late to try to catch up and she was exhausted. He was pleasantly surprised when she answered. "Hey, baby, you got a minute?"

"Yeah, a few." She sounded tired. "I'm glad you called. This definitely brightens my day."

"Happy to brighten your day." He sighed. "I've got some not so good news though."

"Oh no. What?"

"CMT is cancelling the show."

"What?" She sounded surprised. "Again?"

"Yeah. Said they were cancelling all scripted shows."

"Oh, babe, I'm so sorry. I know how much you loved the show."

"Well, that's true, although not as much as I did when you were still here."

She sighed. "How did everyone else take the news? How did you find out?"

"They brought us all together, on the Bluebird set, ironically. Marshall and Callie were there and they told us. And it was everyone, crew included."

"I'm really sorry to hear it, for all of y'all. Remind me again when you wrap?"

"Early April. Can't remember the exact date." He hesitated. "If they asked, would you come back? At least for the finale."

She was quiet for a moment. "Oh, Chip, I don't know. I mean, Rayna's dead. And I _won't_ play a ghost."

He didn't want her to dismiss the idea. At least until someone could figure out a way to make it work. "What about a flashback?"

She laughed a little. "You mean like those ridiculous flashbacks they did, trying to make us look like teenagers or something? I'm so glad those videos they did last season used other actors. There wasn't enough makeup or filtering that could make me look nineteen."

He smiled. "You can look as young as you need to. _I'm_ the one that was bad."

"Well, regardless, I just don't see how they'd even do it." She paused. "Did someone say something like that?"

"Nah. Just me." He decided to tell her he'd asked Callie. "I did mention it to Callie. She kind of said the same thing you did, that Rayna was gone and there wasn't a good way to do it. At least she'll think about it though."

She didn't say anything immediately and he wondered if he'd pissed her off by even throwing it out there. "Well, let's just see what happens. They may not have any interest in trying to resurrect Rayna in any fashion." She let out a short laugh. "They weren't terribly happy with me for asking to be released from my contract, even though they did let me leave." He could hear a voice in the background. "Babe, I gotta go. Talk to you later?"

"Yeah. Let me know when you're free."

"I will. Love you." She sounded wistful at the end.

He smiled to himself. "Love you too." After she'd disconnected, he stood looking at his phone. It didn't sound promising that she might come back, somehow, and wrap things up. He sighed and slid the phone in his pocket. Then he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

It was after midnight when he quietly let himself out onto the back porch. It was a chilly night, so he'd pulled on a jacket before he went outside. The sky was clear and the stars were sparkling in the black sky. Blue had come out with him and settled down next to the chair. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and he went back to Connie's text. _Call me at midnight your time._ It was five minutes after midnight as he hit the call button.

"Hey, babe," she said when she answered. Her voice sounded as soft as velvet and it felt comforting to hear it. They didn't get to talk often, because of her filming schedule, so this was a gift.

He smiled. "Hey, there. How's your day been?"

She chuckled a little. "I wanted to say better than yours, but I'm not so sure now."

He frowned. "What happened?"

"Script changes happened," she said with a sigh. "It feels like we're running as fast as we can just to try to keep up with our shooting schedule, but we're already three days behind, I think. Ryan's a perfectionist, so that's part of it, but someone's always stopping the train to switch things up or make a dialogue change. At this rate, we'll be finished filming the last episode the day before it's supposed to air. But today was the last day of filming before the holidays."

"Sounds like a lot."

"I'm sorry, my love, I took over the whole conversation. How are you doing right now?"

He shrugged. "I'm still not sure exactly. I'm still processing it. Told the family when I got home and it's about what I expected. They're more worried about me than the financial piece. But I gotta tell you, Connie, _I'm_ worried too."

"You've done some really great work, Chip. I've seen how much you've grown as an actor. Not only are you really good, but you've shown your range, and you're also pretty popular with fans, you know." There was a hint of amusement in her voice, and encouragement, that made him smile.

"I guess we'll see. I'd really like to focus more on my music, but I feel like I still need the other. The idea of doing it alone is a little daunting."

"Do you mean alone on the stage or alone in life? Because you know you're not alone in life."

"I _do_ know that, but it's good to hear anyway. But yeah, alone on the stage. I guess I'd feel better if I had some things that were more commercial. I still keep hoping I'll sell some of my songs to other people. I'd still perform 'em on my own, but that would help a lot." He'd have to be more aggressive about going after that market, he knew, but it felt like he was standing in the sand and the water was pulling back out from the beach.

"We'll figure it out." She paused. "I _am_ worried about you though. I know how much the show meant to you. I know how much you love it. _Still_ do, even if you're trying not to. You _do_ know that's what made it worthwhile for me, right?" He heard a smile in her voice.

"You made it worthwhile for me, too, baby."

He heard her yawn. "I'm exhausted," she said. I know it's not so late out here, but I'm on set again tomorrow and I have to get Yoby up and off to school in the morning and all that. I just wanted to check in on you."

"I'm glad you did." He sighed. "I know we've got holidays and all that, but I really need to see you. I know it hasn't been that long, but I just really miss you."

"I miss you too and I would love to find some time that works. Maybe after Thanksgiving we can make a plan."

He smiled. "Sounds good. Hey, you sleep good okay?"

"I'll be thinking about you. Good night, my love."

"Night." He disconnected and then leaned back against the back of the chair. He _did_ want to see her. _Needed_ to see her. It wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to figure out a way to do it.

* * *

Unfortunately the repeat trip didn't happen and, combined with the still relentless shooting schedule and preparing for a cast tour in Europe just after the show ended, his temper was short and he felt pulled in too many directions. Connie had started filming on a movie almost as soon as she had finished '9-1-1' and they could never make the timing work. He was even more hopeful that somehow Callie and Marshall would figure out a way to get her into the finale. It had been too long since they'd seen each other and calls and texts weren't a good substitute for time together. Even she had been out of sorts and more emotional than normal.

He wanted to be supportive and not emotional. It was as hard for him to be without her as it was for her, he knew. He'd talked her through tears more than once. It was her turn to be angry for the hand they'd been dealt and he wouldn't dare remind her that she'd set it in motion. He was grateful to be there to support her.

He was walking out to his car when his phone buzzed. He stopped and smiled when he saw it was Connie. "Hey, baby, how are you?" he said when he answered.

"I'm coming to see you," she said, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm coming to see you," she said again. "I can't do this anymore. I can't wait anymore." He could hear her voice shaking.

"When?" He was surprised.

"I want to come next week. I begged to get a couple days off – that I'll have to make up – but I need to see you. I need to _be_ with you." She breathed out. "Can you make it work?"

He had no idea if he could. "You tell me when and I'll make it work," he said, hoping he'd be able to honor that, knowing he'd move heaven and earth to make it so.

"It'll be quick. In one day, out the next. What does your schedule look like?"

"Hold on." He pulled his phone away from his ear and opened up his calendar, where he kept his filming schedule. "I have the most time on Tuesday," he said.

"Do you…do you think you could stay the night? I mean, it's okay and I'd understand if that's too much to ask, but…."

"Shut up," he said, a smile on his face.

"What?"

He laughed softly. "If you're gonna be here overnight, there's no way I wouldn't figure out how to stay with you. Just let me know when you get in and where you'll be."

"I will." She paused. "I can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait to see you too, baby," he said.

He couldn't help but smile all the way home.

* * *

He pulled into the parking garage and then walked briskly to the elevator lobby. She had already texted him the room number and he hit the button and waited. He looked around, hoping not to see anyone who might recognize him. He was still alone when the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, pressing the button for the seventh floor. He breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator kept going past the lobby. Nashville was always a mecca for tourists, but the late winter months seemed to be the least crowded and it seemed it was the case at the hotel.

It was late. He'd been on set longer than he'd thought he would be and he was anxious to get to her. The elevator seemed to be moving in slow motion and he found himself impatiently tapping his heel on the floor. He leaned his head back against the elevator wall and closed his eyes. This time had been different, in terms of staying out all night. Patty had no idea Connie was in town and so she accepted his explanation without any suspicion. He took a deep breath, as he felt a tiny twinge of what felt like guilt that he quickly tried to push down. It wasn't guilt, he told himself, it was a desire to get to the end and move on. He was tired of playing games and hiding his true feelings. It wasn't good for either of them. For _any_ of them.

When the elevator doors opened on the seventh floor, he stepped out into the hall and then turned left. He found the room and knocked on the door. It was less than a thirty seconds and the door was pulled open and she was there, smiling. She stepped forward, reached for his hand, and pulled him into the room, letting the door slam behind him. She rose up on her toes and, putting her hands on his face, pulled him to her for a long, sexy kiss. He felt tears on his face as he kissed her and when she finally let him go, he could see her damp eyes and the tears on her face. "I'm so glad to see you," she murmured. "This has just been unbearable."

"I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I just couldn't make things work."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. I just couldn't wait any longer." She looked at him apologetically. "I know this is hard for you to manage and I know this could make things difficult for you, but…."

He stopped her from talking by kissing her, tugging at her bottom lip until she opened her mouth to his, and then kissing her hungrily. He ran his hands down her back and pulled at her blouse, then touched her silky soft skin, moaning in the back of his throat. He couldn't think of anything else except for how much he loved this woman and how desperately he wanted – no, _needed_ – to be with her. He walked her backwards towards the bed as they pulled and tugged at each other's clothes. Then finally he gently laid her back on the bed and then crawled onto the bed after her. He slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her face close to his. "Don't worry about me, baby," he murmured. "I'll live with anything to be with you." She smiled and her eyes got misty and he kissed her, gently pushing her onto her back.

He would have preferred to take his time with her, but it had been so long and he wanted her so badly, that he couldn't wait. She seemed to feel the same way, though, so the lovemaking was quick and rough, as though they couldn't get close enough. When he finally rolled onto his back, he felt her fingers reach for his hand and he grabbed them tightly with his own. He could hear her heavy breathing, almost in sync with his own. When she finally was relaxed, she breathed out almost like a sigh. She turned her head to look over at him and he looked back at her. "I really just want you to hold me all night," she said. "I just need to feel your arms around me, your heart beating next to mine. All I really needed was just to be with you."

He turned on his side. "You saying you didn't want _that_?" he asked, a teasing smile on his face.

She smiled back at him. "Oh no, I'm not saying that at all. I'm just saying that being with you, next to you, really is what I craved." She ran her fingers down his arm and looked at him sadly. "I'm not even here twenty-four hours. I have a flight back to LA at eight in the morning."

His heart sank. It wasn't enough time. "I wish you could stay longer," he said.

She nodded. "Me too. But I need to get back. I was lucky to get a couple days." She ran her tongue over her lower lip. "I figured that if everything works out, I'll be back in April, so it's not so terrible."

He put his hand on her hip. "Any time without you is terrible, you know that. But it'll all be done soon. That's what I keep my eyes on." He reached for her then, pulling her into his arms. If she wanted to be held all night, that's what he'd do. She settled into his arms and then sighed, a sigh of contentment. "You set an alarm?"

"Yes. I want to stay awake, but I'm afraid we might not."

"We'll try." He pulled her a little closer to him. "So, I've been meaning to ask you about, uh, _Buck_."

She looked up at him in surprise. "You watched? How?"

He grinned. "On my phone. When I'm by myself, of course. So what should I be thinking….?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Oh, no, no, no. You don't get to be jealous."

He raised his eyebrows. "I don't? But you were jealous of Jessie."

"First of all, I wasn't jealous. Second of all, she wanted my Deacon. Too soon, I might add. And third, Buck did not want Rayna Jaymes."

"Oh, I think you were jealous a little bit," he teased, kissing the top of her head. His emotions, being with her, already anticipating the future, rose up inside him. "It won't be long now, baby," he whispered, as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Do you know when?" she asked, her voice just as soft, as if saying it too loudly would break the spell.

He cleared his throat. "Addie goes to school in July. They start soccer practice before school actually starts. Then there's a beach trip already planned." He held her closer. "So then. Or around then."

She drew little circles on his chest with her index finger. "It still feels like a while. Like something maybe wouldn't go quite as planned. I feel like I'm holding my breath, all the time."

He thought about that. They had avoided getting too detailed about things, always conscious of how things might play out. There had been a long time when he had barely dared to hope they'd still be in this place when he was finally able to leave for her. Then he breathed in deeply. "You ever think about…ending things? With us?"

She averted her eyes and didn't say anything for a moment. Finally she looked back at him. "I have to be honest – yes. Because you were married, because I didn't want to be _that_ kind of woman. Because it seemed like it would just complicate things between us, especially if things ended badly. Because of your kids." She sighed. "Did you?"

"Yeah. I mean, not really for me, but for you. 'Cause I wasn't sure I had the right to ask you to wait. And then when you dated that cook."

She frowned for a second, then laughed. "He was a chef, Chip, not a cook. But that was never a thing." She reached up and traced her finger along his jawline. "He wasn't you." She rested her head on his chest. "Sometimes I'm surprised we ended up going the distance. But it would have been really hard to truly let go."

He hugged her a little closer. "Me too," he said quietly. Then they just laid there, holding each other, the silence stretching out between them. It didn't take long before they were both asleep, but at least in each other's arms. Morning would come entirely too soon.

* * *

When the alarm went off, he bolted awake. Sometime during the night she had rolled away and he saw her sit up. She looked over at him and, even in the dim light, he could see that her hair was all messy around her face as she looked over at him. He reached out and traced a finger down from between her breasts to her stomach.

"We can't," she said, her voice still hoarse from sleep, but he noted a distinct sadness in her tone. "I have to get a shower."

He smiled. "Then, yes, we can." He watched as she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He got up and followed her. They both got in the shower and as the hot water rolled over them, he pressed her against the shower wall, his hands covering hers as she pressed her palms against the slick tile. He knew they didn't have much time so he took her quickly. He came first but she wasn't far behind, and then he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She leaned back against him, then turned to face him and he kissed her.

* * *

When he got to his car, after sending her down in the elevator first, he was unbelievably tired, but he felt a certain peace inside himself from having been with her. She had cried a little, at the elevator door, as he held her in his arms and kissed her, but he had tried to give her an encouraging smile and tell her it wouldn't be much longer. He would miss her too, of course, but he was hoping things would work out for the finale and that she'd be back in not too much time.

As he started his car, it occurred to him he'd be going to work in the same clothes he'd worn the day before. He wondered if anyone would notice.

* * *

Callie had reached out to her about coming back for the finale and he was grateful. She had initially said no, but Callie had promised they'd work something out that honored the character and the Deacon/Rayna relationship. She was still hesitant, though, and he'd had to hold his tongue more than once, so as not to make her feel pressured. He wanted her to do it, whatever they came up with, but he knew not to push too hard.

The episode they were filming was a heavy one, for Deacon, and he'd had to dig deep to come up with a story for himself that would help him tap into those heavy emotions. It was one of those times that he missed Connie most, the way she could coax out of him the right emotion or historical perspective, even if it was one they'd made up for themselves. He was having to do it alone now and it felt harder. He had taken a break and walked down to the other production stage and sat in Deacon's living room. It had been a long time since he'd done that. With all of the filming going on at the main stage, it was quiet in the building and it helped him to put away all the outside noise.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence, and he pulled it out. _Can you talk?_ He smiled. It was Connie. _Yes. I'm on set today but available now._ He waited, and not ten seconds later, he saw her calling. "Hey," he said when he answered.

"Hey," she said, her voice all warm and cozy. "I needed to hear your voice."

"Well, I'm glad it was mine you needed to hear."

She sighed. "Callie still wants me to come for the finale. I don't know yet what she has planned and I'm not sure she does yet either."

He breathed in, reminding himself to not push. "What's standing in the way?"

"Well, assuming they come up with something that makes sense, it's the timing of it, really. It's Yoby's spring break and we're already set to go to Mexico. I'd have to leave a little early _and_ bring someone with me."

He frowned. "Why do you need to bring someone with you?"

She laughed. "Someone to watch Yoby, silly. You know, during filming. And maybe for other reasons."

"Other reasons?"

She chuckled softly. "Well, I do have a special…friend that I might want to spend some time with. If that's possible."

He grinned. "Oh, I think we could make that possible."

"Good. That's what I was hoping." He could hear the smile in her voice. She sighed then and her voice turned serious. "Chip, I hope you don't think I really could have ended things with you."

"Um…."

"You remember. We talked about it the last time I was there. You asked me if I ever thought about ending things between us."

He had put it away, but he remembered then. "Okay, I remember now." He ran his hand over his face. He wished he'd never brought it up. "I know." He heard her sigh. "It's okay, baby. I know it's been hard. For both of us. But it's almost over. I promise."

"I know," she said. "Well, listen, I'll let you go because I know you're at work. I'll let you know as soon as I know, when it's definitive that we've worked out a way for me to come back. And not as a ghost."

He smiled. "I don't want you coming back as a ghost. If you're not a real live woman, somehow, it won't be satisfying."

"I love you, Chip." She sounded wistful.

"I love you, Connie." As he always did, when he ended a call with her, he felt melancholy. He tried to keep from counting the days, but it was hard not to want to plan how everything would go. He ached for her. He sat, with his eyes closed, and thought about how she felt, how she smelled, how she tasted. There were days he didn't want to wait, but, now that the end was in sight, he reminded himself they'd be together soon.

He opened his eyes and let his breath out in a whoosh. Then he pushed up from the couch and headed for the door, so he could walk back to the other production stage for his next scene.

* * *

He'd had a hard time concentrating all day. Clare just rolled her eyes at him when he'd flubbed his line for, like, the tenth time. _Seems like your mind is far, far away._ She wasn't completely wrong. It was hard knowing, though, that Connie was in town. They'd worked up a scene for her, actually for the two of them, and she'd been happy with what they came up with. She wasn't a ghost, which was a relief. It was a flashback, to Deacon and Rayna's wedding night. It was a nice scene, with just the two of them, and Rayna's words had come back to him from that night, when she told him that no matter what, they took each other as they were. The scene was written as a jumping off point for Deacon to move towards forgiveness for his dad, but it was an appropriately intimate scene, and he was looking forward to filming it. Connie had gotten to town late the night before and he hadn't been able to talk to her then. She and Yoby had cut short their vacation in Mexico and, while it was inconvenient, she had also told him there was no way she wouldn't have come.

" _I'm here," she'd whispered, her voice filled with joy and excitement. "I can't wait to see you." She had called him as he was driving to work and he nearly turned the car around to go find her._

" _What time are you coming to the set?" he asked._

" _Oh, not until a little later. Callie said they'd start the filming after six, so everyone else will be gone." They wanted as few people as possible to watch the filming itself or be around for it, to preserve the mystery around it, hoping to surprise the fans._

" _Are you at least coming early enough to rehearse?"_

" _Of course," she said, laughing gaily. "I need a bit of time to get back into character." She paused. "Can you take a little time after?"_

 _He grinned. "Yes. I told everyone I'm filming really late. I can't stay out all night, but I can stay late."_

" _Good." She sighed. "I wish you didn't have that show Sunday."_

 _He frowned. Patty had booked him to open for Dwight Yoakum in, of all places, Florida. He would leave after the wrap party and not get back until the early morning on Monday. He hadn't told Patty Connie would be in town, but he figured she was covering her bases in case she did. "I do too. I mean, any opportunity is a good one, but the timing sucks."_

" _It's okay. We'll have some time now and then, well, it won't be long before we have all the time we want."_

That was true. He couldn't wait for her to get to the set. After the scene with Clare, he went to his trailer and spent the time waiting either pacing or sitting like a cat on the edge of his seat. Finally he heard a soft knock on the trailer door and he practically exploded out of his chair. He pulled the door open expectantly and she was standing there, a smile on her face. He reached for her hand and pulled her in, closing and locking the door firmly behind her. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Their tongues battled each other and her hands gripped the back of his shirt, while his grabbed onto the back of her hair. When he finally pulled his lips from hers, they were both breathing heavily.

She looked up at him and smiled. Her face was a little flushed and he'd messed up her hair a little, but she was the best thing he'd seen in weeks. "Hey," she said.

"Hey." He reached for her and pulled her back into his arms, resting his hand against the side of her face as she leaned against his chest. "I'm so glad you're here."

She pulled back again. "Me too." She had a questioning look on her face. "Are the old sets still here?"

He nodded. "Most of 'em. They've gotten rid of some things, but mostly everything's there."

She smiled. "I was thinking it might be nice to do a last walkthrough. What do you think?"

"I think that would be great." She turned and walked back to the door, unlocking it, and then opening the door and walking down the steps, as he followed behind her. She waited for him to lock it, and then they headed towards the building where they'd spent so much time.

* * *

They walked slowly through the different sets – the Bluebird, the music room, Rayna's kitchen. "It's so strange to be back here," she said, running a finger along the counter of the kitchen island. She looked at him. "It seems like such a long time ago."

He nodded solemnly. "It does." He pulled open a drawer and smiled, pulling out some script sheets.

She smiled. "You still do that?"

He bumped her shoulder. "Not all of us were as perfect as you."

She grinned and shook her head. "That's not true." She slid her hand through his arm and nodded towards the bedroom set. "One last place," she said. They walked into Rayna and Deacon's bedroom, standing at the end of the bed.

"I don't think, after the funeral episode, that Deacon ever got in that bed again."

She winked at him. "Want to try it now?"

He laughed. "I would, if I could be sure we were the only ones here."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" she said, with a wicked grin. "This from the man who thought nothing of having sex in the back seat of a car." She lowered her voice conspiratorially at the end.

He smiled. "You got me there, but somehow it seems like a bigger risk here."

"You're probably right." She let go of his arm and sat on the edge of the bed. She bounced a little and made a face. "Still uncomfortable."

He nodded. "That it is." He sat next to her, although he allowed some space between them.

She looked over at him and sighed. "Did you notice that the script got the history wrong? Again?" It was a pet peeve of hers. He always hated admitting he didn't always remember, so he said nothing. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. "I don't know how you don't remember," she said. "Deacon and Rayna had sex on the couch. I mean, I think after he sang that song for her, she was so turned on, she just ripped his clothes off."

He laughed. "Yeah, I think you're right about that," he said.

"I _am_ right. So now it's in the bedroom and he's put his clothes back on?" She grinned. "I think he'd strut right to the bedroom with his manhood all out there on display."

He shrugged a little, as he chuckled. "No doubt." He remembered that scene, finally, as one they'd purposefully screwed up, just to give them a little more time in each other's arms.

She breathed in and then out. "Let's go rehearse," she said.

They'd created a cabin bedroom set, the first, and last, time they'd ever show it. As always, there was great attention to detail on the little things. Pictures, chairs, even bed covers. He breathed in, trying not to get teary. It seemed fitting that, just like the very first scene he filmed for the show was with her, one of the very last ones would be as well. They had some time before the crew got back over for them to do the scene, the flashback to Deacon and Rayna's wedding night, where Rayna gave Deacon a great lesson in forgiving the past. He took her hand and she looked up at him. "Shall we do this?" She nodded.

* * *

They ran through the scene one last time and then, at the end, fell back on the bed side-by-side. As soon as they did, she looked at him and then started to laugh. She put her hand on his chest. "Who does that?" she said, still laughing. "I mean, seriously. Who falls back on the bed like this?"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "It _is_ sort of odd."

She couldn't stop laughing and she leaned in close to him, even though the mics weren't turned on and the crew was busy getting things ready for the shoot. " _We_ don't do that," she whispered, a saucy smile on her face.

He sat up then, realizing it might look odd for them to still be prone on the bed, and she sat up as well, not taking her eyes off him. He grinned. "You are right about that," he said. "But it must look okay on camera."

She made a face and shook her head. "No, it doesn't. Not really. I've always thought how they have them just sort of fall off the screen like they do looks strange." She started laughing softly and leaned forward until her forehead was touching his shoulder. "The magic of imagination, I suppose." She sat back and looked at him, her eyes sparkling with laughter and love. "I really am glad I could do this."

All of a sudden the emotions of it caught up with him and he could feel his eyes get damp. "Me too," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I was hoping and praying for it, even before they said they were gonna reach out to you."

She bit her lip, her emotions playing across her face. "I would only have done it if this was the way they wrote it. That's what I told them when they approached me in the beginning. _You_ know. As much as I would have wanted to do this for _you_ , for _us_ , I couldn't have done it another way." She held his gaze and he almost forgot where they were.

"Chip, Connie, we're ready to shoot." Callie's voice broke through and they both sat back. She smiled at him, then stood up and walked over to the door, leaning against the door jamb, her fingers tapping the frame, an indulgent smile on her face.

* * *

He took a selfie of them, still in character, before they left the set. When they'd finally gotten a perfect take, the crew had clapped and whistled their approval, and he had to admit he felt good about what they'd come up with for this scene. Even if it did play with history. Again. It had felt good doing it with her and he could tell she was enjoying it. When she looked into his eyes, he could see all her feelings for him, coming through in her character. The essence of Deacon and Rayna was that they had this bond that had sealed their fate, no matter what life had thrown their way. He'd been grateful, in the end, that Deacon was walking onto the Ryman stage, at the very end, still married to Rayna in his heart. And even though he liked Ilse deLange, he was glad they hadn't gone past the discussion about writing together. None of that had felt true to the character. Sure, Deacon had had his flings throughout the series, some more serious than others, but it made more sense to him that, at the point in time where they were, he would still be working on moving forward, not moving on. Deacon, remembering something important between him and Rayna, was exactly where he'd wanted the writers to leave him.

* * *

He waited for her while she got changed. When she walked out of the makeup room, he felt his heart start beating faster. He smiled as she approached. She had that fresh-faced look and he loved that he could see her freckles. She'd changed back into the jeans and t-shirt, covered by a light jacket. She smiled back at him.

"Hey there, you two." Callie's voice startled him, as she appeared out of the bowels of the darkened production studio. "Y'all wanna go out and have a drink to celebrate?"

Connie screwed up her face a little and she looked apologetic. "I really can't. I want to tuck Yoby in plus I'm exhausted."

He shook his head. "I'm gonna get on home. Been a lotta late nights."

Callie gave him a look. "Yeah, I get you." She reached out and patted their arms. "Y'all be good then and I'll see you tomorrow." She gave them a sly smile, then turned and headed for the exit.

Connie's eyes were wide when she turned back to him. "Do you think…?"

He shrugged. "I'm guessing she wonders. That's all." He didn't want to make her skittish, but he was pretty sure Callie suspected something between them. But with the show almost over, it no longer made a difference. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "You ready?" She nodded. "I'll follow you then." They turned and walked out the same way Callie had.

* * *

He rolled over and pulled her back against him, as she giggled. He kissed her on the shoulder, then behind her ear. He let his hand trail up her abdomen and he lazily fondled her breast. She made that little contented noise in the back of her throat and pressed herself against him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in her ear. She laughed softly. He tweaked her nipple and she groaned. "And sexy." He snuggled in closer. "I love fucking you," he murmured.

She groaned again. "I love how you fuck me," she said. Then she rolled over to face him and he put his arm around her. "And I love how you make love to me."

He breathed in deeply, just staring into her eyes. Then he leaned in and took her mouth with his, nibbling on her bottom lip until she opened her mouth to him. He sucked on her tongue and her lips and she did the same. He slid his hand up and down her back. He could feel the stirring in his groin and he smiled against her lips, then concentrated again on her mouth. When he'd almost blocked everything around them out of his mind, she raised her leg and lifted it over his hip and he guided himself inside her as she moaned.

He didn't want this to ever end.

 _ **A/N: As you can probably guess, this is now veering into straight AU territory. A lot of real events, but, from here on out, intertwined with my own daydreams. Hope you'll enjoy.**_


	31. Chapter 31

He started to roll over and she grabbed his arm. "Don't go, babe," she said.

He turned back to her. He definitely did not want to. "I need to," he said. "I'm already later than I meant to be." She pouted and he nearly lost his resolve. "I'll see you tomorrow." He glanced over at the clock. "Well, later today now, I guess."

She reached up and gently scratched his cheek. "I guess. But it won't be the same." He propped himself on his elbow, not moving. She smiled slowly. "You don't want to go."

He grinned. "I _never_ want to go, baby. _Never_." He reached out and wound a tendril of her hair around his finger. "You tempt me."

"Please be tempted then. Please don't leave me just yet." He hesitated. He wanted to do exactly as she'd asked, but he also was cognizant of the fact that, at the wrap party, it would be obvious to Patty that Connie was in town, and it could create a firestorm he wanted to avoid, now that they were so close to getting what they wanted. "I know I'm being that needy female I never wanted to be," Connie said, bringing him back to the present.

"I don't mind you needing me," he said.

"I'm putting you in a bad place, though." She sighed. "I know you need to go. You've been here too long already."

He bit down on his lower lip, then leaned in and captured her mouth with his. He lazily kissed her, giving attention to her lips, her tongue, her whole mouth. He put his hand on her arm, then slid it to her back and down to her ass. Then he flipped her onto her back. He pulled his lips from hers and looked at her for a long moment, as she looked back at him, her lips parted. He thrust himself inside her, without preamble or allowing her to adjust to him, and she made a soft gasping noise. He started moving inside her, quickening his strokes until he was hitting her like a jackhammer. Eventually she fell into rhythm with him. His orgasm came suddenly and explosively and he cried out with release, as she clung to him. He hovered over her, breathing hard.

He realized she had not come and so he slid down between her legs and slid his tongue inside her. She groaned, pushing herself towards his face. He gripped her hips and flicked his tongue over her and inside her as she writhed with pleasure. He sucked and licked as she moaned, "Oh, please, Chip" over and over. Finally, when he could tell she was right on the edge, he hit the spot he knew would send her over, and she arched her back and cried out again and again, as he waited her out. When she was laying out, breathing hard, he kissed her there and then moved up on the bed beside her. He watched her as she slowly caught her breath.

"That hold you over?" he asked. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, nodding slowly.

"Yes," she said, her voice husky. "Oh, hell, yeah."

He smiled, then leaned down and kissed her. "I very reluctantly need to go," he said.

She nodded. "I know."

He rolled over and got up from the bed, slipping back into his clothes. She walked around the bed, wearing panties and the blouse she'd worn the day before. She followed him to the door and then he turned and pulled her into an embrace. She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. He slid his hands under her blouse, feeling the soft skin on her back. He pulled away and sighed. "I'll see you tonight?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm bringing Yoby too."

He grinned. "Good. Looking forward to seeing him."

"He can't wait to see you. It was all he talked about coming from the airport." She kissed him again. "Thanks for this."

He put his hand on the back of her head and kissed her forehead. "My great pleasure," he said and then finally, reluctantly, he left her.

* * *

He dressed carefully for the wrap party. Even though it would be bittersweet, knowing it was the last one, it was going to be a celebration of six great years. Many of the former cast, both regular and recurring, would be back for it. They were coming in to film the climactic final scene at the Ryman on Monday and were all invited to the wrap party as well. He was looking forward to seeing everyone. He buttoned his shirt as he looked at himself in the mirror. _Who am I kidding? Connie's the only one I want to see._

The memory of the night before still lingered. He could still feel her skin against his, could still taste her in his mouth. He breathed in as he tucked in his shirt. He wished he could have spent more time with her, but with the inconveniently scheduled performance in Florida, opening for Dwight Yoakum, they wouldn't have it.

Patty had been curious, and more than a little suspicious, about why he'd been 'filming' so late the day before, but he'd been circumspect. He knew she was wondering if Connie would be back, especially since she knew many former cast mates would be. She had not asked him directly, only obliquely. _So who all is coming for this?_ He'd sidestepped it, not wanting all the comments she would make about it. She hadn't pressed too hard, but he knew the shit would hit the fan when she saw her at the party that night.

She walked into the room behind him then. He flicked his eyes over to her. She was ready. She smiled a little. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine," he said.

"Well, I know it's hard for you to see it end." She walked towards him, stopping at the dresser. He turned to look at her.

"Yeah, it is." She was worried, he knew that. He was as well, quite honestly. This show had been a good job – a very good job – for six years. And now it was over and he wasn't really sure what was next. There were still dates left for a final cast tour in the UK, as well as some other things Patty had been working on, but then he didn't know what would be next. His music career hadn't progressed as much as he had hoped it would by this point. He tried not to show anxiety, but when he was alone, he certainly felt it. Music, while soul-satisfying, would not pay the bills. Certainly not now, maybe not ever. His rep agency was looking for opportunities and he tried to stay positive.

"I put our stuff in the car," she said.

He nodded. He would leave even before the party had ended to make the drive to Jacksonville. It was still a sore spot, considering he had to be back in Nashville on Monday for the last day of filming. He didn't want to think about all that now, though. He just wanted to have a good time. He raised his eyebrows. "Let's go then," he said.

* * *

Patty saw her first, when they walked into the place where they were having the wrap party. She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. When he turned to look at her, her face was all screwed up. "Did you know she was coming?" she hissed. He didn't say anything, just took a deep breath. Her face fell and she let go of his sleeve. "Of course you did," she said then, her voice flat and emotionless. "How long have you known?"

"Stop it," he said, frowning. He really didn't want to discuss it, especially right then. He knew it would be awkward and uncomfortable for Patty, but Marshall had invited her and she had wanted to be there. And, truthfully, he was glad she was there. They had not seen each other enough, since she'd been gone. Just stolen moments on much too short trips. The night before had been exactly what he'd needed.

"Chip!" He heard Yoby call out to him and he turned to see the seven year old running towards him, his face gleeful. He grabbed the little boy up in his arms and hugged him.

"Hey there, Yobes," he said, a huge grin on his face. "How you been?" He set the boy down and saw her then. She was just standing there, watching them, smiling at them.

"Great!" Yoby shouted. The noise inside the venue was loud.

He forced himself to keep looking at Yoby. "How's school?"

He shrugged. "It's okay. I'm making friends though."

"That's great."

Yoby grabbed his hand. "Come see Mom!" he cried. Out of the corner of his eye, as Yoby dragged him away, he saw Patty turn and walk off determinedly. It couldn't be helped. And then there she was, standing right in front of him, her eyes sparkling, looking breathless and happy to see him, even though they'd been together the night before. "Mom! It's Chip!" Yoby said, smiling proudly.

She smiled down at her son. "Well, yes, sweetie, I see that," she said. "But you knew he'd be here." She looked back at him then, her smile radiant. "Hey."

"Hey." He couldn't stop smiling and then he reached for her with a hug. A hug he knew lasted too long, but no one else would notice. It would just be the hug of two coworkers who presumably hadn't seen each other in almost a year and a half and who'd had a great on set relationship. Not the hug of two people who loved each other desperately, unsure of how to make that even work anymore. "When do you have to leave?"

"We're leaving Tuesday. Yoby needs to get back to school."

He nodded. He felt disappointed but he was still smiling. "I wish we could spend more time together before you have to leave."

She sighed. "I do too." She reached for his hand and squeezed it, then held on tight. "Hopefully it won't be too long before we can see each other again." She shrugged.

He squeezed her hand back. "Soon," he said. "I promise."

She put her other hand on his face and kissed him softly on the cheek. When she pulled back, she had her best Connie Britton smile on her face. "I'm just going to look forward to that then," she said. "And Monday." Then she let go of his hand and turned to follow Yoby, who was standing at the dessert table with Lennon and Maisy.

He just stood and watched as she walked away, feeling like there was a vise around his chest. "Did you say your goodbyes?" He turned at the sound of Patty's voice and looked down at her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and breathed in slowly. Then, without a word, he turned and walked off in the opposite direction.

* * *

He found her a little later down a dark hallway. She looked so pretty in her colorful sundress, her hair tumbling down over her shoulders. He walked up to her and, putting his hands on her waist, leaned in for a kiss. She put her hands on his upper arms and leaned into him. Then she smiled and reached up, brushing back his hair. "You look so handsome tonight," she said. "And I'm reminded, every moment, of how much I miss you, and how much I'm looking forward to us being together."

"And you look beautiful," he said, with a smile. He tilted his head toward the door. "Can we walk?" She nodded. He looked around. "I just think it would be better to do that." They made their way around to the golf ranges and walked around the outer perimeter, silently at first. He looked over at her. "I'm worried."

She looked back at him with a frown. "Why?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and breathed in. "I should know how to handle this. I mean, I've lived my whole adult life trying to piece work together. This felt substantial and I think I just really got a little too relaxed."

She clasped her hands in front of her. "I think you'll be okay. You're a really good actor, Chip." She smiled. "And you're funny and you're musically talented." He smiled at her. "Maybe it's not another six year series, but why does it have to be? You've told me almost from the beginning that you want to work on your music. That if you had to choose, that's what you'd choose."

He shook his head and laughed a bit. "Well, that's a lot of big talk, when you're making good money and you can indulge the music. But, you know, if I had to rely on that, I don't know what would happen. I mean, I can maybe book some shows, but it would be at small venues with maybe a thousand, fifteen hundred people. I have no album, no radio play. My fan base is really people who watched the show."

"Well, that's not insignificant. And it's what you _love_. You should do what you _love_." She looked at him with concern. "I think it'll work out. Hasn't it always?"

He thought about that. "Yeah, I guess it has. And it means things can move forward for us on schedule."

She nodded. "That's true."

He covered his face with his hands briefly. "I have to believe that." He looked at her. "It's always worked out, one way or the other." Just then his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw the text from Patty. _We need to get to the bus._ He sighed.

"You have to go?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yep. My chariot awaits." They turned around and started walking back.

She smiled. "How long will it take?"

He shrugged. "Nine hours, I think."

She made a face. "That'll be brutal on the way back, for sure."

"I guess. At least I can sleep and I don't have to be on set until late in the day."

She stopped, so he did as well, and she turned to him. "I wish we'd had more time, but at least we had something." She took his hands. "I'm going to wait here for a bit before I come back." She smiled. "I love you. And I'll see you Monday."

"I love you too. I'll text you from the bus." She nodded. He looked at her for another long moment and squeezed her hands. Then he let go, turned and jogged back towards the main building.

* * *

"So where did you go?" Patty asked, after they had silently driven to where they were meeting the bus.

He didn't say anything while he pulled out his bag and hers, along with his guitars, from the trunk of the car. Then he looked at her. "Why do you think I went anywhere?" he asked.

A look of fury crossed her face, then it was back to neutral. "I saw you walk off," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you go meet…her?"

Inside, he wanted to explode. Instead, he stepped over to her and leaned in. "Just let it go," he snarled, his voice low but firm. She turned and walked off and he thought it would be a very long trip.

* * *

He was dozing in a bunk on the ride back from Jacksonville. He was still furious that Patty had scheduled this appearance, especially knowing he'd be filming on Monday. He was always glad to get a performance, but not only had it been unbelievably poor timing it also meant he hadn't gotten as much time to spend with Connie as he would have liked. Just then his phone vibrated and he looked at it. _How was the show? I'm sure you were awesome._ He smiled at Connie's text. Then another buzz. _Sorry to text so late._ He grinned and rolled over onto his back.

 _No worries. I can't really sleep._

 _I'm surprised. You can usually sleep no matter what._

 _Knowing you're in Nashville and I'm not makes me restless._

 _I feel the same. Try to sleep, my love, and I'll see you tomorrow. Or is it today?_

 _I think it's still tomorrow. Barely. Sleep well._

He held the phone against his chest and closed his eyes. He'd missed her so damn much and he was so glad she was back, even if it had just been for a couple days. Seeing her had been like balm for his soul. He was tired of being so separated from her, that their times together had been so rare and fleeting. Suddenly he felt anxious, ready for the double life and the loneliness to be past. She was in his bloodstream and he knew he was in hers. He was still grateful every single day that the powers that be had put him in her orbit. When he thought now about the fact that the role of Deacon had first gone to someone else, the fact that it ultimately had come back to him had felt like it was fate and meant to be. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were in Nashville.

* * *

He woke when the bus pulled into the lot in Nashville. He was surprised he'd slept at all. When he crawled out of the bunk, he realized he hadn't slept as long as he'd thought. He felt stiff and tight and spent some time stretching out his muscles. As he gathered his things and carried them out, then went back for Patty's, he made a decision. He didn't say anything until he'd unloaded the car and gotten everything in the house.

"I'm going to work," he said.

She frowned. "What? You don't need to be there this early."

He raised his eyebrows. "I know that." He rested one hand on the counter and tucked his thumb into his back pocket. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "The truth is, Patty, I'm pissed off about this up and back thing you booked. You knew it was the end of filming, that we had all this other stuff going on, and you did this."

She crossed her arms and looked away. "You need the exposure. And Dwight Yoakum draws a crowd."

He ran a hand over his face. "That may be, but the timing of this sucked. Even in a bunk, sleeping was hard. You _knew_ I'd have to be on set today. I'm fucking tired and it's the very last day I'll ever film this show." He could hear his voice getting louder.

She frowned. "Don't raise your voice. Addie could…."

He rolled his eyes and barked out an unpleasant laugh. "She's already gone to school, Patty." She kept her gaze level. "I'm going to work. I think maybe I can get a dressing room to take a nap."

"I think I know why you're going," she said.

He shook his head. "She's not even going to be there until later." He slammed his hand down on the counter. "Not everything has to do with _Connie Britton_." He dragged her name out for emphasis and Patty looked away. He grabbed his keys back up. "I'm going. I'll be home when I get home. We'll probably film late, so don't wait up." He didn't wait for a response, just turned and walked back out to his car. He texted Connie he was going in early. He knew she wouldn't be coming in until much later in the day, but he wanted her to know. Then he turned the key in the ignition and backed down the driveway.

* * *

When he woke up the one light he'd left on was still on. He picked up his phone and checked the time. He sat up and then swung his legs onto the floor and looked up to see Connie sitting in a chair across the room, smiling at him. "Hey there, sleepyhead," she said.

He smiled and rubbed his face with his hands. "How long have you been sitting there?"

She shrugged. "Maybe an hour?"

"But you don't have to be here until later."

She got up and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside him. "Are you saying you wish I weren't here?" She was still smiling, her voice taking on a teasing tone.

"No, no, no, not at all," he said. "I just wasn't expecting you."

"Well, good enough reason for me. To surprise you." She reached out and smoothed his hair back. "Plus I knew you were kind of pissed, so I thought it might help if I came early." She smiled again. " _And_ I love to watch you sleep."

"You do?"

She nodded. "I do." He leaned in to kiss her and she indulged him for a moment, before sitting back and pushing him gently away. "Let's be careful here. I can get away with wanting to visit my favorite cast member, but not with kissing him in a dressing room at the Ryman."

He smiled. "I'm your favorite?"

She made a face. "You know you are." She gave him a cheeky smile. "You've always known that."

He took her hand and just looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "I'm so glad you came back for this," he said.

She nodded. "I'm glad it worked out." She squeezed his hand but kept holding it tight. "I really felt like I'd washed my hands of all this, but I was surprised at how glad I was that Callie and Marshall reached out." She paused. "And I wanted to do this for _you_."

He didn't care. He leaned in and kissed her and was glad that she let him. Then he sat back. "I've got to get to wardrobe and all that."

"I know. I won't keep you." She stood up and he stood up with her.

"Did anyone see you come in here?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. But it is down a hallway."

"I'll check to be sure the coast is clear." She nodded and he turned towards the door, then turned back. "You look so gorgeous." She was wearing a floral sundress, fitted in all the right places and showing her cleavage to best advantage. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"It is. And thank you." She couldn't seem to stop smiling.

He walked to the door then and cracked it open, enough so that he could look up and down the hall. He pulled his head back in and looked at her. "You're good."

She hurried over and waited for him to open the door. She looked back, putting a hand on his cheek. "I'll see you later," she murmured. Knowing it could be the last time he saw her for a while, he felt a lump in his throat and the dampness in his eyes.

"Yes, you will," he said. Then she slipped past him, out into the hall, and she was gone. He could almost tell himself she hadn't actually been there, but he knew that she was. She always seemed to know when he needed her. He swallowed hard and then pulled the door back open and walked out, headed for wardrobe.

* * *

As always, filming ran late. All of the Ryman interior scenes were filmed first and then they were ready for the final number, which the extras brought in for the filming did not know was going to be the final scene of the episode. They kept almost all the extras outside waiting, as they did a run through of the final song, blocking it out. A few of the key extras were kept inside to give them an audience to play out to. The only person who didn't go through the run through was Connie. They were keeping her carefully under wraps until they were actually filming, to get the biggest bang for the buck.

When they were finally ready, the extras were brought in and finally they started filming that final scene. He felt goosebumps and butterflies and was ready to go. The energy level was high for everyone. When everything was set up, they started filming. They would go through it in one shot, since the song would be done live on stage. Once the girls came out, they would be breaking the fourth wall, as almost all the cast members, current and past, joined them on stage. As he knew it would be, the reaction to Connie walking on stage was the most enthusiastic.

Standing next to her on stage was exhilarating. He kept a hand on her back and they couldn't help smiling at each other. As they wound up the song and Callie gave her closing remarks, he had such mixed emotions. That Connie was there put the perfect bow tie on the whole experience. He was surprised when she turned towards him and kissed him on the lips. It was more of a peck really, but she seemed so at ease doing it and he couldn't help but smile. They stayed close to each other, even when they spoke to others.

* * *

It was late into the night when things finally wound down. It had been amazing to see old friends, like Eric Close, and newer ones, like Will Chase. He would miss this. He'd been grateful when they'd gotten a second chance after being cancelled, and he'd hoped for many years on CMT, but it hadn't been meant to be. Now he needed to start thinking about his own next chapter. He looked over at Connie, standing not far away. She was talking to a crew member and then she looked up to see him staring at her. A softness crossed her face and she patted the other person's arm and made her way over to him.

"Were you looking for me?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

He smiled. "I was looking _at_ you," he said. "Do you need to leave?" She nodded. "Can I take you?"

"I would love that," she said.

"Let me change into regular clothes and I can do that." She nodded and he hurried back to the dressing room. He changed into his street clothes, washed his face quickly, and then headed back to her. She turned when she heard his footsteps, and he put his hand on her back and leaned in, kissing her on the cheek and she did the same. Then they turned and walked out the door.

* * *

He held tightly to her hand as he drove across the river towards East Nashville and the B&B she and Yoby were staying in. _It's a place I've always wanted to stay in, but it just didn't work out. We could only get this one night, so I took it. And it's adorable._ She rested her elbow on the console and leaned her head on his shoulder. They didn't talk until he had pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car. He'd chosen a more secluded spot, where they could be more private. He looked over at her and squeezed her hand, then leaned in to kiss her. She smiled, a dreamy look on her face.

"I'm really glad I was here for this," she said, for what felt like the twentieth time that night.

He smiled. "Me too."

She sighed. "I wish I could bring you upstairs, but, you know. Alex and Yoby are there."

He nodded. "I understand."

She sat up abruptly then and turned in the seat to face him. "Oh, Chip, I totally forgot to tell you this. They have a suite here called the Cabin." She grinned.

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" She pointed at a building at the back of the property. There was a soft glow of light from the windows. "We got to see it when we checked in here today and it's amazing. It's all wood and leather and has these really old wide plank wood floors." She gave him a teasing smile. "And this gorgeous clawfoot tub. I know this sounds totally dorky, but maybe someday we could stay in it. Oh! It has a coffee table shaped like a piano. It's just so gorgeous."

He laughed, running his finger down her jawline. "You couldn't, in a million years, be dorky. _I'm_ the dork. But it does sound like a great place."

She unfastened her seat belt and he was afraid she was going to leave, but then she turned a little more towards him and tucked one leg up underneath her. "I want to make out," she said, with a giggle.

He smirked. "How are we gonna do that?"

She gestured towards the backseat. "Get back there," she said. Then she rose up on her knees and slid through the space between the two seats, finally pulling her legs through. "Come on."

He chuckled and then slowly followed behind her. When he landed on the seat next to her, she surprised him by straddling his lap, sliding her hands over his cheeks, dragging her fingers into his hair. She looked at him for a moment, then pressed her lips to his, her hair falling around them like a curtain. For a brief moment, he wondered about the wisdom of doing this in the parking lot, even though they were in a secluded area covered by tree branches, with no lighting close by. Her dress had slid up her legs as she sat on his lap, and he put his hands at the hem and pushed the dress up around her upper thighs.

She continued to kiss him, lightly biting his lip, swirling her tongue in his mouth, pressing herself as close to him as she could. Her hips started to move and he pushed her dress up further, letting his hands up her bare butt cheeks, excited by the idea that she had no panties on. She moaned in his mouth and he could feel himself quickly becoming aroused. She moved a little closer so that she could press against him and he held her tightly against him.

She pulled her lips from his and looked deeply into his eyes, panting hard. She reached her hands between them, deftly unzipping his pants and pulling him free. She moved slightly, then swiftly took him inside her. The idea that they were in the backseat of a car, where they could be caught, seemed to increase the excitement. She found his mouth again and quickly slid up and down the length of him until he could feel that she was right on the edge. Then he suddenly came, practically seeing stars behind his eyes. He felt her come almost immediately after him and then she collapsed against his chest, breathing hard. He could feel her racing heartbeat as he held her close.

When he caught his breath, he whistled. "Jesus, Connie," he said. She sat back slightly, putting her hands on either side of his face. He smiled at her. "I wasn't really expecting _that_."

She smiled back at him. "It _was_ kinda fun, wasn't it?" She slid off his lap and landed on the seat next to him, after she'd smoothed down her dress. She pointed her finger at him. "You might want to zip that up," she said with a laugh. He looked down and then did as she suggested, laughing a little. Then he took her hand in his.

"It was more than _kinda_ fun," he said. "You surprised me."

She shrugged good-naturedly. "I feel like I've been pretty straight-laced and _conservative_ , if you can believe _that_ , at least sexually. You make me want to explore and I feel comfortable doing that – with you."

He felt unexpectedly emotional. He reached out and ran his hand over her hair. "I'm glad you do, baby," he murmured.

She leaned her head back against the seat and drew her legs up underneath her. Her eyes seemed to dance all over his face. "I just love fucking you," she said, with a grin.

He laughed, then leaned over and kissed her. "I love fucking you too," he whispered against her lips.

* * *

She had reluctantly gotten out of the car, finally, after she'd lingered for a bit, just kissing him. He had watched her cross the parking lot, turning one last time to look back at him, lifting her hand briefly in a wave. When she was gone from his sight, he finally pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway. When he pulled into his driveway, he pulled out his phone and texted her, smirking to himself. _Sweet dreams, you sexy thing. Can't wait to get you in the backseat of my car again._ A few seconds later she texted back. _I fucking love you. I'll dream about sex in the car with you,_ followed by the sleepy emoji. He laughed out loud and he knew he had the biggest smile on his face.

He was ready to move on. _So_ ready.

* * *

He was exhausted and not looking forward to the UK tour as much as he had the previous year. It had been on the books for a while but, while he still loved performing, and especially with this group, it just rang hollow this time. Maybe it was the fact that the show was done – at least the work aspect. Although the show would finish broadcasting its back eight in the summer, it was essentially over. He still had mixed feelings – sad the show had ended, glad for the possibilities now open to him – and the tour felt a little like salt in the wound. It was just a week, but he didn't have the same enthusiasm as in the past.

And then Patty was coming. Even though he'd tried to convince her she needed to be home for Addie, she was having none of it. She hadn't gone the year before, she argued, and she wasn't doing that again. She had been busy lining up dates for him. She was working on some dates in Germany, after an event promoter had reached out. There were some benefit appearances coming up and several private events. He was excited about the opportunity for solo performances, but he chafed a little at her involvement, especially since she seemed to be spending all her time setting things up to keep him busy.

He finally gave up trying to convince her to let things go for a bit. He did manage to get some of the accommodations changed so that there were two beds in the room. At least he'd be able to separate himself from her in that way. He also considered that he would soon need to think about actually hiring a professional manager. He'd acknowledged to himself that she was good at managing his career, setting up events and being dogged in her attempts to find opportunities for him. It would be challenging to find the right person who could do what she did for free.

* * *

He managed to slip away from her in Glasgow. He had promised Connie he would call her and he hadn't gotten an opportunity until then. He had pulled on a jacket and used the stairs to exit the hotel, rather than the elevator. He'd seen a small park near the hotel that they had passed on the drive in and he headed that way. It was a brisk day and the breeze felt cold on his face. He pulled the bill of his cap down a little lower on his forehead and jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The park was a little further than he had thought, but he finally entered and found a spot to sit.

It was a little after 3:00 and he figured that meant it was about 7:00 in LA. She would be up by now, getting Yoby ready for school. _You up?_ He sat back against the back of the bench, slumping a little. He closed his eyes and looked up towards the sky as he waited. Finally he felt his phone buzz. _Yes. Can you call?_ He placed the call immediately.

"I'm so glad to hear your voice," she said as soon as she picked up.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do it before, baby," he responded.

"I understand. Where are you?"

"Glasgow."

She laughed softly. "I know that. I meant, where are you calling from?"

He grinned. "A park right down the road from the hotel. I got left alone in the room and made my escape."

She sighed then. "I know it hasn't been that long since I've seen you, but it feels like forever."

He breathed in deeply. "I know." He sat up then, leaning forward. "We're taking Addie to school the end of July."

"I might be working then." She sounded disappointed.

He frowned. "Really?"

"Well, nothing's firm, but yeah, probably." She sighed again. "So, have you heard about the 'Dirty John' podcast?" she asked, changing the subject.

He chuckled. "You listen to podcasts now?" They'd had this conversation before. She said she had no time for it, that she was too busy with Yoby and besides, she just thought they were self-serving for the person making them. She felt lazy doing that when she was at home and when she was in the car, she preferred music. He enjoyed them, and had even been a guest on a few, and he'd felt like he'd always learned something new.

"Ha ha, smarty pants. No, I'm not listening to podcasts now. Just this one, because someone recommended it to me. And besides, it was all over the news out here, since it happened here."

He laughed. "Okay, so tell me about it."

"No, I want you to listen first. Then I'll tell you why it intrigues me so much." Then she changed the subject again. "What's the status on doing the shows in Germany?"

He sat back against the back of the bench again. "It's a go. Middle of June. Berlin, Hamburg and Cologne."

"Just you, right?"

He smiled. "Yep. Solo deal."

"I'm proud of you."

"I'm super excited. Never thought I'd get to do this."

"You sell yourself short, Chip. I mean, this is your dream and you've worked hard for this. I hope you enjoy the whole experience."

"I wish you could be with me."

"I wish I could too. But one day I'll be able to."

He sighed. "Soon, baby. I promise." But soon seemed farther away than ever.

"Not soon enough," she said, her voice sounding wistful. There was a long moment of silence. "Hey, I hear Yoby coming down the stairs."

He sat up. "I know you gotta go. I love you, Connie."

"I love you too. And we'll talk when you get back and you can tell me how amazing it was and we can talk about what's coming up."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm back home."

He sat at the park for a long time after they'd hung up. He closed his eyes, missing her tremendously. He thought about how they'd talked about him leaving after he and Patty dropped Addie off at school. But then the annual beach weekend had been planned for the following week and then there were a series of shows Patty had booked him into. And it sounded like Connie had something she'd be working on. His agent had given him a heads up on a possible role in a cable show that, if he got the role, would start filming late summer. Suddenly he felt like the universe was plotting against them and he felt pulled in too many directions.

He just wanted to put all this behind him so he and Connie could be together. He _needed_ to put it all behind him. He sighed, feeling almost defeated when he considered the logistics. He breathed in. _No sense feeling sorry for myself. I just need to figure this out, pick a date, then be done with it._ He slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket and stood up. He needed to get back to the hotel.


	32. Chapter 32

When he got back to Nashville, one of the first things he did was to listen to the 'Dirty John' podcast Connie had recommended, straight through from start to finish. He also read the original LA Times series and then did some internet surfing. It was a fascinating true crime story, but it also made him wonder how clueless a woman could be. Of course, he also considered that she'd been married four other times, so she clearly had no common sense, in his opinion, nor the ability to discern someone's character. He was shocked at how easily she had dismissed the concerns of her family and essentially lived a life she'd hidden from them. It made him wonder what Connie's interest was.

He was out running one afternoon and, as he typically did, he sat on a bench in a shady area and pulled out his phone. "Hey," she said brightly, when she answered.

"Hey yourself. What's happening out where you are?"

"Just working on some things, looking at scripts. And scheduling some appearances. It's mid-years and I'm doing a little campaigning for some of the folks I'm interested in." He was always impressed with her passion, particularly towards politics and political causes. He was less inclined to step out publicly on those things, didn't want to get into the political debate, but he loved talking to her about those passions and learning more. He tended towards more charitable endeavors and she always told him how important those were as well.

He smiled. "I'll make sure to find all your speeches and listen. So, on another note, I listened to 'Dirty John' and I'm curious what has you so intrigued about it. Doesn't seem like the kind of thing you'd gravitate to."

"Why? Because Debra Newell seems like such an airhead?"

He laughed. "Well, I don't know if I'd put it quite that way, but yeah, I guess so. She seemed like she had really poor intuition and insight. And it was like she just needed a man, which I would more associate with someone younger."

"Well, you'd sort of be right. That was actually my initial reaction too. She got all caught up in this sexy, charming man and just waved off all the red flags. She was ready for love and wanted love in her life and she let herself be blinded to what was right in front of her. It seemed she didn't think she was anything without a man. But then I met her and spoke with her and my opinion changed a bit."

He frowned. "Why would you have met her and talked to her?"

"Well, because I'm going to be involved in producing it. Like a limited run series." She paused. "And I'm going to play Debra Newell."

He was stunned. He couldn't see it. "Seriously? I mean, that doesn't seem like the kind of role you do. You're nothing like that and she's so, I don't know, weak. Which you are definitely not."

"I know that's not me, but I think it's an important story for women to hear and see. Debra is like a lot of women, where she thinks she's nothing without a man. That her life isn't complete without a man. Think about it. I mean, I love you and I want to be with you. My life is so much richer with you in it. But I still have my own life and my own interests and we stand together as separate people, within a loving relationship. I get what you're saying. She made choices I would never make, but I think I can shine some light on how not to get so caught up that you make those bad choices."

He wasn't sure exactly how she'd pull that off, but he knew if anyone could, it would be her. "So who's going to be Dirty John?"

"Not totally locked down, but it looks like Eric Bana."

"I don't think I know him."

"He's been mostly in film. He's a great fit for the part." She laughed a little. "Here's a funny thing. I actually considered you."

That surprised him. "You did?"

"I did. But I didn't really want that to be something we did together. John is a really awful person and, although I know you could do it, I didn't want you playing that kind of role opposite me. Plus everyone would watch it thinking we would be Deacon and Rayna, which, of course, Debra and John were not."

"Well, I _do_ have that other role I'm being considered for anyway," he said with a laugh.

"Yes, you do. And I'm so jealous that you'd be filming in New Orleans. I really loved working there." She sighed. "I hope we can figure out a way to see each other soon."

"I'm working on something. I'll let you know as soon as I can."

"Okay, so I need to get to a meeting. I'm so glad we had time to really talk."

He smiled. "Me too. And Blue is starting to get restless anyway." Blue had been tugging at the leash for the last several minutes. "I love you."

"I love you too. I'll talk to you soon."

After he hung up, he sat on the bench contemplating what she'd said about not choosing him to play her lead in 'Dirty John'. While he would have liked to play opposite her again, he also knew the character wasn't for him. It wasn't that he thought he couldn't play that kind of dark role – he'd successfully portrayed Deacon Claybourne, after all – he wasn't sure that was the type of role he wanted. Deacon was merely flawed, yet still heroic in his own way. John was just evil to the core. Connie was right, it wasn't the kind of role he'd want to do, with her.

Blue tugged again and he stood up, laughing. "Alright, I get it, Blue. Let's get moving." He started to jog back down the path, trying to come up with how he could see her again.

* * *

In the end, they weren't able to coincide schedules in a way that made sense for either of them. He could hear the dejection in Connie's voice whenever they talked about it and he pretty much felt the same way. He and Patty would be leaving in a few days to take Addie to school. Soccer practice would be starting and Addie was excited about that and about school. He was proud of the fact that she was carrying on the family tradition of attending William & Mary and actually was looking forward to the drive up and taking some time to visit an area special to his mother's side of the family. It was hard to think about letting her go, but he was happy for her excitement.

One thing that seemed to be dampening the anticipation for both of them was that it didn't seem like his original plan to leave after Addie went to college was going to work out on that exact timeline. Connie wasn't angry, because some of it was her schedule and obligations, but he knew she was tired of waiting, tired of the obstacles that kept coming up. As was he. He felt responsible though, because he was the one with the most ties to cut, and he felt like there were so many things scattered through the rest of the summer and into fall.

He drove out to their spot one afternoon and walked down the path to the river. He slowed his pace as he got closer. He'd only been there a handful of times since she'd left. It always felt empty without her, almost soulless. It was subdued, just a spot along the river, when she wasn't there. They'd fought here, especially after she announced she was leaving, but mostly it had been a comforting place for the two of them. After a while, it just became too depressing to go. But he felt a pull that day and so he drove out, by himself. Once he finally made it down the path and to the little spit of land along the Harpeth, it felt different, as if she was there in the air.

It was a warm, muggy late June afternoon. The trees provided some cover from the sun, but he could still feel little dots of sweat on his skin. He sat right on the edge of the water, hooking his arms around his knees. There was a sunny spot on the river, where the tree coverage broke, and he focused on that, almost feeling like he was in a trance. He closed his eyes and could almost feel her cool hand on his arm. He lifted his face slightly and smiled to himself.

After a bit, he breathed in and then rubbed his face. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was a little after 2, which meant it was about noon in LA. He called Connie, lifting his phone to his ear. He smiled when she answered. "Hey," he said. "Just needed to hear your voice."

"I'm glad you called. What are you doing?"

"Sitting at the river."

There was a pause. "Our place?" she said wistfully.

"Yeah." He sighed. "I miss you, but you know what?"

"What?"

"I can feel you. It's like you're sitting here, right next to me."

She laughed softly. "I told you. I'd always be with you." Then her voice turned more serious. "So when do you leave?"

"Two days. We'll drive up to Roanoke, spend the night, then head over to Williamsburg. We're gonna stop by Buchanan, where my mom's family is from."

"That sounds nice. Will you stay overnight when you drop Addie off?"

He smiled. "Yeah. We want to take her to dinner, make sure she gets at least one decent meal." He chuckled. "You know how college kids are."

"How long will it take for you to get back?"

"Same kinda deal. Stop in Roanoke, then back to Nashville." He sighed. "It'll be a long drive."

She didn't say anything at first. "So then what?" she asked quietly.

He breathed in. This is when he thought he'd be leaving, for good, but there was a show in Canada, then a show in Clarksville. After that would be the beach, then a couple more shows. "I'll be in Austin in September," he said hopefully.

"You'll love it. That's probably my favorite place on the planet really. It's a lot like Nashville, you know, with all the music." She sighed. "I wish I could come see you there, but I'll be right up on top of a really busy time for me." He waited to see if she said anything else. "It sounds like we're both gonna be. So maybe we need to push things out a little."

"Maybe," he said.

"Before the end of the year, babe. I think at some point we need to rip off the band aid."

"You're right." He cleared his throat. "So it sounds like that part I read for's gonna come through."

"Oh, Chip, that's great!" That seemed to perk her up. "The one in New Orleans, right?"

"Yeah."

"No matter what, I'm coming to see you there." That perked him up. "I think you'll love it." She paused again. "I just feel like we're so close now. Don't you?" He heard the touch of anxiety in her voice.

"I do. Oh, I'm gonna be in Boston for the finale. One of those songs of Deacon shows."

"When is that again?"

"July 26."

"I'm writing it on the calendar now. I don't want to miss it. You know, I will have just been in Boston then, working on SMILF. We just keep missing each other, it seems like."

"It won't be too much longer though, baby. I promise."

"I swear, Chip, when I finally get you for myself, I'm gonna love you so hard, you'll never leave again."

He chuckled softly. "I like the sound of that. Of course, I'll do the same." Then he felt tears dampen his eyes. He just kept thinking about how busy they both would be and felt like nothing just worked out as though the sun, the moon, and the stars aligned. It would just have to happen, convenient or not, at some point. _Before the end of the year, babe._ Yep, they just needed to rip off the band aid. "I should get back and help Addie pack up the U-haul."

"I love you, Chip. I miss you." Her voice was soft and it sounded like she was teary.

"I miss you too. Love you, Connie." When he disconnected, he realized tears were rolling down his face.

* * *

He watched as Patty walked down the concourse to the restroom. They were headed to New York City for a show at the City Winery the next day. Then they would head to Boston for a similar event, coupled with the finale of the show. Both nights would be 'Songs of Deacon Claybourne' events. His plan was to start slowly removing those songs from his set list, so that he could concentrate on his own music. In the aftermath of his Every Single Friday singles releases, he'd continued writing. He'd been fortunate to be able to write with some A-list songwriters and felt his songs had improved. He really wanted the opportunity to write with the top of the class one day, writers like Ashley Gorley or Luke Laird or even Josh Osborne, but he felt he needed more work with those he was getting to work with.

He took a chance and tried calling Connie, keeping his eye on the concourse as he did. He got her voice mail, disappointingly, and left a message. "Hey, baby, was just sitting at the airport waiting for my flight. I'll text you and then hopefully talk to you soon." He disconnected and started a text, when he saw her call back. He smiled and held the phone at his ear. "Hey, baby," he said.

"I'm sorry. I was dropping Yoby off at a friend's and was talking to the mom."

He grinned. "How's the Yoby man?"

"He's great. Enjoying the summer. Swimming, going to the beach, movies. He's a whirlwind."

He laughed. "He's a great kid, Connie. You've really been a great mom."

She laughed a little. "Aww, well thanks. I do my best. So, you're headed to New York?"

"Yep. Show is tomorrow night. Then off to Boston."

"I'm sorry I won't get a chance to see you in Boston. You were a couple weeks late."

He sighed. "I guess."

"What's the matter, love? You sound a little sad."

"I guess it's just because the finale is that night in Boston. I sort of wish this hadn't been set up."

"Well, you know, if anyone was going to host a watch party for that, it would be you. I think fans would have disappointed if you hadn't. Is it sold out?"

"Both nights are."

"See?" He could hear the smile in her voice. "You're popular. You're so good with fans."

"Well, maybe, but it's gonna finally be over. Really over. I've sort of been able to put it out of my head, because the show is still on, but now it won't be."

"But you have that other show coming up, right? Just look forward to that." She paused. "And to me." They'd already talked about her wanting to come see him, even though she would be in the throes of filming 'Dirty John'.

He smiled. "I'm definitely looking forward to you." He saw Patty head into a shop, probably to get magazines. "Listen, baby, I gotta get off the phone."

"Okay. Chip?"

"Yeah?"

"Try to have fun. Just drink it all in, all the love and support. I promise I'll watch too."

He knew she had never watched regularly, even when she was still on the show, so he was happy she'd told him she planned to this time. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too. And I can't wait to get naked with you, you hot man."

He chuckled. "Back at you." He loved how she could leave him with a smile. But he knew they needed to have a serious talk about timing, very soon. He was thinking that after she wrapped 'Dirty John' would be the right time and he hoped to talk to her about it when they had more time. He slid his phone into his pocket just as Patty exited the store and he slumped down a bit in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

* * *

He settled into his seat next to the window. Patty sat next to him and his publicist was on the aisle. He pulled the window cover down and then pulled his ball cap down over his face. He crossed his arms and leaned into the side of the plane, hoping to get a little nap. He let his mind drift to everything that had happened in the last year and a half. He'd alternated between being angry after Connie told him she was leaving the show and trying to hang on to every moment he had with her. The anger mostly dissipated over time. He knew she hadn't been happy for a while. The only episode she was really happy with in that last season on ABC had been the wedding episode and then she was still unhappy with the drama that was created and how it was squeezed into just one episode. _There's so much more to their story, babe, and we really didn't dive into it at all. The stupid drama over how Maddie felt about Deacon and Daphne feeling left out just took away from all the sweet parts of Deacon and Rayna finally getting that chance to be together in a healthy way. And then we know how all_ _that_ _turned out._

He knew, because he'd felt a lot of it too. He remembered her relief when the show was cancelled and how unenthusiastic she'd been at the beginning when CMT had taken the show over. She had loved the way they'd treated Deacon and Rayna's relationship though, showing how undeniably connected they were and showcasing how much they'd been able to overcome to get a chance to make it right. She'd rolled her eyes a bit when they'd introduced the stalker storyline, but it had also given her some meaty scenes, especially in her next to the last episode. But then she'd been taken away from him, both on screen and off, although it was driven by her request.

He realized he was being overly dramatic then. _He_ hadn't lost her, although he'd tried her patience more than once. He'd been afraid he'd lose her, that she'd go back to LA and being apart would pull them apart. Having her gone, both from the show and from Nashville had been painful. He'd struggled with it and had, more than once, considered deviating from his original plan for them. He'd missed her and he still missed her. He _needed_ her.

Even though the show had been over, at least from a filming perspective for more than three months, he was still tired. Performing and writing music had lifted him up from some of the despair that would hit him, more often than he'd expected. But he was exhausted. It had mostly fallen on him to carry the show. In their last season, Hayden was mostly MIA. She'd still struggled, in the aftermath of her postpartum depression, and she'd been pissed that Connie had been able to work herself out of her contract, but hadn't been given the same opportunity. She _had_ negotiated fewer episodes, and he'd heard the outrage amongst the fan base. She distanced herself from other cast members and even dictated who she would work with. If he'd worked with her at all that final season, he really couldn't remember it. It had hurt him at first, because he felt like he got along with everyone in the cast, even the recurring characters. But he thought it was more that she didn't want to be part of the family they'd had, not specifically him, and it made him sad.

He knew the show in Boston would be emotional, not just for the fans but for him as well. He still wished they weren't doing it that way. He really just wanted to settle into his emotions and his sadness, without it being on display for a roomful of people. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold it together. He expected fans would be emotional and he didn't think he had the energy for it, although he knew he'd be expected to try.

He breathed in deeply and turned his body towards the window and finally settled into a fitful nap.

* * *

He felt a kind of dread as they flew to Boston. He'd had too much to drink the night before and had a headache. Patty hadn't helped at all by getting all agitated over how many times he talked about Rayna and Connie. She had told him to scale it back and he'd lit into her. _These are the songs of_ _Deacon_ _, Patty. Who else would he sing about other than Rayna? And pretending like Connie Britton never existed is absurd. You need to figure out how to control your agitation and jealousy. This isn't to piss you off or get under your skin. It's for the people who paid good money to come see this show and_ _expect_ _it._ She had glared at him, then walked away. She picked up her glass of wine and sat, sulking, on the side stage. It seemed she'd had too much to drink as well, based on the dark circles under her eyes and her own headache.

She was sitting next to him on the plane, not speaking, just flipping through a magazine he was pretty sure she wasn't reading. They actually hadn't spoken to each other since the argument they had when they got back to the hotel, a fight they'd seemed to have over and over in the years since he'd gone to Nashville. She would push him to the point where he asked what she wanted and then she'd back off. At this point, with everything on his plate, and Connie's, it was going to be late fall before he made his break, but he wouldn't mind if she'd either throw him out or ask for a divorce. He'd ended up sleeping on the couch in the room, not even bothering to try to play nice.

When they landed, she walked off the plane without looking at him. He shook his head and laughed a little to himself. He didn't try to catch up to her, walking down the concourse, getting stopped by fans along the way. He'd take selfies, sign autographs, listen to their disappointment at the show ending. It lifted his spirits, even as he commiserated with their sadness. He knew it was a relatively small army that supported the show, but he was always overwhelmed by the loyalty of the Nashies and hoped it wouldn't go away too soon.

When he caught up with Patty at baggage claim, she was waiting with their bags. "Where were you?" she asked.

He shrugged and smiled. "You seemed like you were in a real hurry to get away, so I just took the opportunity to mix and mingle with fans." She frowned and then turned and walked off again.

He steeled himself for a repeat of the night before, only this time it was going to eat away at him as well. The last broadcast. That last scene with Connie. The uncertainty of the future.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

He sat at a table by himself as the show played out on the screen. The place was fairly quiet, all things considered, just a low buzz, as the fans who'd filled the room watched the finale with rapt attention. He couldn't watch. It hurt too much. It was one of those things where he went back and forth on what he truly believed was the cause of it. Of course, the story on the street was that CMT had decided to get out of scripted television. Maybe that was true. Well, it _was_ true, because that's exactly what they'd done, but who knew the real reason why they'd made that decision. Maybe it was also true that when they had to kill off Rayna, it had killed off any chance they had to make a go of it. Maybe they just had to be satisfied with the gift of two extra seasons after the network cancellation.

He wasn't blind or deaf. He knew what was being said. That the show wasn't the same without Rayna. Without Connie. Fans were angry, hurt, done. He'd listened to it all and tried always to put a positive spin on it. He loved the show, _still_ loved the show. It was the best thing he'd ever had in his life. It had taken until he was 47 years old to be the lead in a TV show. He might never get another chance at it. Yeah, he'd wanted it to go on forever, although he'd known that wasn't likely.

He still, when he thought long and hard enough about it, sometimes got angry with Connie for walking away. As much as he understood it – and he knew her so well, so intimately, that he _did_ really understand – it had been the death knell for the show. He was convinced of that. And so he had very mixed emotions, when he let himself really dwell in all that.

He picked up his phone and wrote out a text. _Are you gonna watch?_ He couldn't remember if she was home or working. Couldn't remember anymore where she was. She'd been busy, he'd been busy, and it had been several weeks since they'd actually _talked_ , rather than texting. _Of course. Are you watching now?_ He breathed in. _Are you working?_ He didn't answer her question. He waited. He could feel Patty's eyes boring into his back. _Not today. How are you doing?_ He sighed. _Bittersweet. You know that._ He glanced up at the screen briefly, then back at his phone. It was the scene after the talent show results. He'd felt awkward playing it, tired of the writers trying to push his character too fast into the arms of another, even in the very last episode. _I'm sorry, Chip. I am._ He felt tears welling up and he switched over to Twitter, scrolling down to see what was being tweeted about. He'd lost his enthusiasm for live tweeting after Connie left. He cared deeply about the show and about his character, but he also sometimes felt like he was just going through the motions.

He thought about the last time he'd seen her, the day they'd filmed that last scene. It was all them. He'd known it, she'd known it. Every look, every word, every touch of her fingers to his face, that kiss, it was totally them. Talking to each other about how there was nothing to be done but to choose each other. It was in their bloodstream. He bit the inside of his cheek. There was nothing to be done but to choose _her_. The time was approaching when he'd be free to make that real.

 _Are you okay?_

He looked back down at his phone and breathed in, feeling the heaviness in his heart and the lump in his throat. He had to think about that. _Am I okay?_ The short answer was no. The long answer was hell, no. He felt like he'd been gutted. It had been easy enough to sort of pretend like everything was okay for a while. After they'd filmed the finale, there had been the tour and then when they got back home the show was still airing, which prolonged really having to face it. But the truth of the matter was he hadn't truly been okay since that day she'd come to Nashville and told him she was leaving the show. He'd felt torn apart. He missed her. They talked, of course, and texted, and they'd been able to see each other a handful of times, but it had been over a year since she'd left Nashville for good and he'd worried the distance would change things. Thankfully, it hadn't. They still meant to be together, even though the timeline had lengthened. He ached for her.

 _Chip? Are you there?_

He reached up and surreptitiously wiped away a stray tear. _Yeah. Sorry._ He sighed. _I miss you._

 _I miss you too._

He glanced quickly at the audience. While they were glued to the screen, he also knew they were checking out his reactions as well. He raised his hand and nodded towards a server, who rushed over with another bourbon. Patty tapped him on the shoulder and he put his phone down, wondering if she'd caught anything. "You don't need that," she hissed in his ear. He responded by taking a long swallow, draining the glass. She was still hovering at his shoulder and he caught the aroma of wine on her breath. "I mean it, Chip. You still have to perform afterwards."

He shrugged and motioned for another drink. She spun away. He turned his phone back over. _Chip? Are you there?_

He sighed. _Gotta go, baby. We're almost at the end._ He couldn't help but wonder what Patty's reaction would be. Although she, of course, knew Connie had been at the wrap party, as had so many others, she didn't know about that last scene they'd filmed together. The scene itself had been handed to him on set and was not a part of the script everyone received. He'd never shared it with her. _Love you._

 _Love you more._

He slid his phone back into his pocket and focused back on the screen. It was nearly over and they were fast approaching the scene with Connie. He smiled a little to himself, thinking about the conversation they'd had between takes.

 _She let out an irritated sigh. "Even now, they're still fucking around with story continuity."_

 _He laughed. "I don't know how you remember all those little things." She always had. It would irritate them both when previously written backstory was modified, or sometimes completely changed, to suit a plot point. Fans would notice though. He'd see the irritation in their tweets._

 _She shrugged and smiled. "Maybe because I felt protective of it. I remember someone in one episode saying something about the mythology of Rayna and Deacon's relationship. And that was true. These were two people who met when they were teenagers – Rayna was sixteen, remember,_ _not_ _nineteen – and knew from the moment they met that they were in it for the distance. How often does that happen? But I loved the whole idea of that mythical, magical love, that bound them together for a lifetime, whether they were together or apart. It was in their blood." She lowered her eyelids a bit and gave him a sweet smile. "It felt like_ _us_ _, Chip, except that we weren't teenagers, of course. But it always made it mean more."_

 _He loved when she talked this way. It always reminded him that she wasn't just CONNIE FUCKING BRITTON. She was also just Connie, just the woman who loved him the way he loved her, who let herself be vulnerable with him in a way he'd never seen her do with anyone else. She could let her guard down and open herself to him, both literally and figuratively. She seamlessly wove her strength and passion for causes that meant something to her to her ability and willingness to let herself be so intimately entwined with him._

" _We've put ourselves into them," he said. "And now we'll do it one more time." He grinned. "No matter what they get wrong."_

 _She laughed in that way she had whenever she was just his girl and he was just her guy. That husky, full-bodied laugh he loved so well._

He looked back at the screen then and Deacon was standing with his dad and his girls and he felt his heart beat a little faster, with anticipation as well as anxiety. When Connie showed up on screen, and he heard the audience gasp and then cheer with excitement, the anxiety faded and he smiled, a genuine smile, as his love gave one last brilliant performance.

* * *

As he and Patty headed back to the hotel, he could feel her fury. He was a little surprised to find that he didn't particularly care and sort of relished the idea of a fight. He had done a short, final set after the episode ended, filled with songs about Rayna, and commentary about Rayna and Connie, in between each. He could tell she was ready to explode, but obviously didn't want to have this particular fight in the backseat of a limo.

She stayed silent as they walked through the lobby and as they rode up in the elevator. He could feel the anger pouring off of her. Her face was as hard as steel, her lips a thin line, her eyes cold as ice. He hid a smile, wondering if this was when she'd let it all out. Then he suddenly realized he was being as passive-aggressive as he'd accused her of being and he wasn't proud of it. He took a deep breath as he acknowledged to himself that it was time, that he had to be honest. He leaned back against the elevator wall, staring over the elevator door. When they reached their floor and the doors opened, he followed her out and down the hall to their suite.

* * *

As soon as the door was closed, she started. Her eyes were flashing fire. "How dare you embarrass me like that," she said, her voice surprisingly level, although there was no mistaking her anger. "How dare you embarrass yourself. How do you think your fans would react if they knew? That you're turning your back on your family?"

He frowned, hooking his thumb into the pocket of his slacks. He was feeling the buzz of the bourbon. "I'm not concerned with how 'the fans'" – he lifted his hands and made air quotes – "will react. They'll either get over it or not." He took a step closer to her. "It's time, Patty. Time to figure out an exit strategy." She looked shocked. "Do you want me to leave? Do you want to throw me out? How do you want to play this?" She looked away. "We need to confront this now, Patty. You know it, I know it. It's time, probably past time."

She looked back at him. "Did she give you an ultimatum? Draw a line in the sand?"

He wanted to be honest, but he wasn't going to hide behind Connie, wouldn't make this all about her. "That's not what this is, Patty," he said. "I just need you to tell me what you want, how you want to play this."

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him. He had no idea what she was thinking right then, what she might say or do. But he felt like he was prepared for anything and he relaxed a bit in that knowledge. She turned back but still didn't look directly at him. "You need to stay until the Light the Night walk," she said. That was the one thing he hadn't been prepared for.

"Why?" he asked.

She glanced at him briefly then looked down at the floor. "There's no time to change things. Not really. It's our event, regardless of whatever else is going on with us." She looked back at him and he noticed her eyes were almost lifeless. "All the kids are gone now," she said, her voice quiet. "I guess you've done what you said you'd do. But there are still things going on. Obligations you have. Obligations I arranged for you. You can't just flip a switch."

 _Of course I can_ , he thought. He pondered all that she'd said. He didn't really think it was true that he had to stay because of whatever 'obligations' were out there. He also knew it wasn't the best time for him to uproot himself. Connie was busy. He'd be in New Orleans. They'd hardly be able to be together anyway. But he felt a sense of relief that it was out in the open. "I'm not gonna make any promises," he said. "The beach week is coming up. Then I go to New Orleans. Alone." She lifted her chin and looked at him defiantly. "And then we'll talk about what's after that." She turned to walk into the bedroom. "I'm gonna see if I can get an earlier flight back to Nashville," he said. She stopped momentarily, then continued walking, slamming the door behind her.

He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. He knew he should have felt some relief, but all he really felt was empty. Turned out it wasn't as easy to untangle as he imagined. Not that there was any regret, but the prospect of doing it gave him pause. He was sure it was momentary, but _in_ the moment, it just felt sad. He took a deep breath and then picked up his phone. He looked up the number for the airline and placed a call. Because it was the middle of the night, it was answered right away.

"What's the earliest flight you have to Nashville in the morning?"

 _ **A/N: The timing of the casting and Connie's involvement in Dirty John is a little different from real life, for story purposes only.**_


	33. Chapter 33

_**A/N: For those who tell me how much they want the next chapter – first of all, thanks! Second, just want to let you know that I try to make this as true to life as I can, except for the AU parts, and that sometimes takes some research. So that makes it take a little longer. I want to make it as good as I can, so I hope you enjoy!**_

He barely dozed on the couch in the suite. The flight was an early one and he was afraid he might sleep through when he needed to leave. He arrived at the airport at 5:45. It was quiet and not many people were there yet. Most were businesspeople, getting an early start for home. He stopped by Starbucks and got black coffee and a bagel, then walked down the concourse to his gate. He sat in the gatehouse, slumping down a bit in his chair. The coffee helped, although he knew he'd crash when he got home. He looked at his phone. It was too early to call or text Connie. She had texted him at some point to let him know she'd watched the finale and thought their scene had turned out well. _Well, except for the falling back on the bed thing._ He smiled to himself.

He was in the first section to board and, when he got on the plane, he took a window seat. He pulled his ball cap down over his face after fastening his seat belt. He leaned his head against the cabin wall and, in spite of the coffee, fell asleep before they'd even pulled away from the gate. He didn't wake up until the plane hit the runway as they landed in Nashville.

* * *

He fought to keep his eyes open on the way home. He and Patty had gone to the airport in her car and he decided to let her drive it home. He got an Uber and headed towards Brentwood. As expected, he tumbled into the guest room bed and was asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow.

 _Connie was laying underneath him, an expectant look on her face. She bit down on her bottom lip, which drove him wild with desire. She lifted her bottom off the bed, as though to invite him in, and he drove himself firmly inside her, as he gently pushed her back down on the bed. She raised up her legs and then let her feet brush down the back of his legs. He pushed in and out, varying the length of his strokes. Her breathing quickened, her eyes were almost closed, and she made little moaning noises. He finally reached between them and touched her in a way he later found was her sweet spot. She bucked up against him, grabbing the sheets behind her as she cried out. He thrust himself inside her once last time and he shouted her name out loud. He collapsed on her chest, breathing into the curve of her neck. At some point, he felt her hands on his shoulders and he raised his head to look at her. She had that just been fucked glisten on her skin and she was smiling._

" _Was that okay?" he asked, still trying to catch his breath._

" _Oh, babe," she whispered. "You were magnificent."_

* * *

 _She was on her knees, her hands pressed against the headboard of the bed. Her legs were open and her ass was tilted up towards him. He tucked himself behind her and put his hands around and under her, cupping her breasts firmly. The skin there felt velvety soft. When he took her nipples between his thumb and index finger, they were already tight and hard, and he tugged at them, gently at first, then a little more firmly. "You like this?" he murmured._

" _Oh, yes," she moaned. "More."_

 _He obliged by pinching harder and she groaned loudly. He rolled them between his thumb and finger, pulled and stretched, and then pinched harder still, as she moaned over and over. "What do you want, Connie?" he whispered._

 _She was panting and moaning, rocking her hips back and forth, pressing her ass against him. He pinched hard and she moaned. "I want you to fuck me hard," she whispered._

 _She didn't have to ask him twice. He moved his hands to her waist and then drove hard inside her until he was fully engulfed by her, moaning himself at how warm and wet she was. He slid his hands to her hips and held her firmly as he thrust in and out. She cried out and moaned and whispered 'yes', over and over. He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed deep inside her and felt himself let go, spilling his seed inside her. He cried out with his release and felt her pulsing and throbbing around him._

 _He finally pulled out and rolled over onto his back. He reached for her, pulling her down and into his arms. He pushed her hair off her face as he panted hard. He felt almost dizzy from the sensations and overwhelmed a bit by how open she was to him. He pulled her closer and she wrapped one arm over his chest and around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. He could feel her racing heartbeat, matching his own. She slid her leg between his. Then she turned her head so she could kiss his damp chest. He kissed her forehead. "Baby," he said, between breaths. "_ _You_ _were magnificent."_

"Chip!" The voice seemed to come from far away. "Chip!" A little louder. He opened his eyes and pushed up on his elbow, rubbing one hand over his face. He looked up and saw Patty standing there.

His heart was beating hard and he was still trying to focus. "What?" he said, knowing he sounded grumpy. But then again, she'd woken him up from a beautiful dream.

Her eyes narrowed a bit. "I wanted to let you know I was back." He ran his hand over his face again and then fell back against the pillows. She stood there for a few seconds, then turned and walked out.

He put his hand on his chest, as his heartbeat finally started to slow down. He took a deep breath, still feeling a little disoriented. He closed his eyes and let out a low grown. He'd been dreaming of Connie and it had felt so real. He couldn't wait for the day to finally come when he could be with her forever.

God, he missed her.

* * *

The first day at the beach was mostly about arrivals and reconnecting and beer. Someone always stopped and got this amazing fried chicken that no one would eat in real life, but seemed super appropriate at the beach. Someone else brought an old-fashioned ice cream churn and made peppermint ice cream. Then the churn was put back in the car and never used again until the next beach trip. There was beer and lots of it. Everyone seemed to forget that someone else would bring the beer and everyone brought their favorite. They would stay up late, long past when the sun went down, floating between the two houses, side by side. All the lights would be on and there would be music playing and laughter. Always laughter. It was no different this particular year.

It was getting later and some were getting drunker. Others were passed out from the first day of (too much) sun and too much fried chicken. He wandered into the kitchen and fished a beer out of the ice chest flipping the cap off with a bottle opener. When he turned around, Cathy was standing right behind him. He pulled her into a warm hug, glad to see her. She was one of the late arrivals. "Hey, sis," he said.

She hugged him hard, then stepped back. "Hey, yourself." She looked at him carefully. "How are you doing, post-Nashville?"

He took a long swallow on the bottle. "Okay. It's taken a little getting used to." She nodded. He smiled. "But…I got a new show. Not a starring role, but something meaty. I'll be going down to New Orleans in a couple weeks after we leave from here to start working."

He almost didn't realize she'd slid her arm through his and started them walking towards the porch. "How long will you be there?"

"Really just off and on. I don't have a big part, really, so back and forth." He noticed then they were on the steps that led down to the beach access. "Where are we going?" he said with a laugh. He was feeling a heavy buzz.

She smiled and shrugged. "Just thought we'd take a walk and get caught up." She lightly punched his arm with her other hand. "Don't worry. I won't keep you out late." They walked quietly out to the beach walk that led over the dunes and onto towards the ocean. The sky was clear and the moon almost full. The ocean looked almost silvery but it was light enough that he could see the outline of the waves and the white froth that raced towards the edge of the beach. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on shore was soothing. The air was heavy with the salt and the smell of the ocean, even with the light breeze. They had walked a little ways when she broke the silence. "So how are…things?"

He looked down at her. "What things in particular?"

"Have things changed with Connie?"

He was a little surprised she was that blunt. He shook his head. "No. It's a waiting game at this point."

"What are you waiting for?"

He looked up towards the sky and screwed up his face a little, as he thought about what to say. "She's busy. I'm busy. I have 'obligations'." He used air quotes and an annoyed tone.

"Such as?"

"I'm not completely sure. Some performances over the next couple months. The show. The Light the Night stuff." He sighed. "A way of trying to hold on, I guess."

"For you?"

He gave her an irritated look. "What do you think? I did tell Patty we needed an exit plan. That's when she put out all these obligations." They walked a little further. "The timing _is_ inconvenient right now, from a work standpoint. We both agree on that. So, maybe after Light the Night."

She hugged his arm. "Oh, Chip, I hate this for you. This is no way to live. Not if you're sure."

He frowned. "I haven't changed my mind about anything, Cathy."

They kept walking and she didn't say anything immediately. "Okay." She looked up at him. "How did Patty react to the exit plan?"

"With the obligations." Cathy rolled her eyes. "She won't fucking talk about it," he said, knowing he sounded annoyed. "I can't wait forever though."

She patted his arm. "I get it. I just worry about you."

He tried to smile but he couldn't. "Thanks." He wasn't sure how he'd get through the week.

* * *

The next night, when he thought about going to bed, he felt like he couldn't breathe, as though he were having an anxiety attack. He mostly stayed out on the porch, which seemed to help. But every time he walked into the house, he had the sensation of a rock sitting on his chest. He sat outside on the porch until almost everyone had drifted off to their bed in either house.

The door opened and he turned to see Patty walk out onto the porch. He had that sensation again, of not being able to breathe. "Are you coming in?" she asked.

He tried to breathe in but if felt like the air was stuck in his throat. He finally managed to get the words out. "Not right now," he said, feeling like he was going to choke.

She shrugged. "Okay." Then she went back into the house.

He sat for a long time, looking out over the ocean. The moon still was bright in the sky and cast a silver trail over the ocean. He breathed in and out deeply, finally feeling the sensation of having a vise around his chest begin to ease. He glanced over to the end of the porch and saw the hammock. He got up and lowered himself into the swing. There was a pillow on one end and he arranged it behind his head. It was still hot and muggy but there was a gentle breeze that helped, so he was reasonably comfortable. He put his hands behind his head and crossed his legs at the ankles and closed his eyes.

The gentle back and forth motion of the hammock had a soothing feel and he felt himself drift off.

* * *

He woke suddenly and it was still dark. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and then he saw a female sitting in one of the rockers. At first he thought it might be Patty, so he kept silent. Then he heard a quiet voice. "Chip?" It was his mom and he breathed out. "You awake?" He stayed silent at first, trying to decide whether to answer her or to hope she would leave. "Chip?" she said a little louder. Clearly she was going to wait him out.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

Then it was her turn to be silent, so he said nothing. Finally she sighed. "Chip, you really need to figure out what you're going to do and just do it."

He didn't say anything for a minute. "I don't know what you mean," he said finally.

He heard her sigh. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Chip."

"I would never do that."

"Hmm." She paused. "And yet you're doing it now." She cleared her throat. "I know you're not happy. I don't think Patty is either. You're both doing a disservice to your kids, pretending like nothing has changed. I don't particularly want you to go down this path, but I really don't have any room to throw stones." She let that sink in. "You're my son, Chip. I don't like seeing you like this. I'd truthfully be surprised if your kids don't already suspect things aren't right. In fact, I'm pretty sure Taylor's not clueless."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" Taylor had thrown out odd little statements and musings for a while, but he'd mostly not reacted to them.

"She's told me she thinks you're restless, not feeling fulfilled. She watches you, son. She loves you. Loves you both. But she told me she wants you to be happy. And I believe her." She paused. "You don't hide this as well as you think you do. You do know that, right?"

"I don't know what that even means, Mom," he said, with irritation.

"Of course you do." She stood up then and patted his ankle. "You _do_ deserve to be happy. You just can't let things continue this way." She patted his ankle again. "Good night, Chip," she said, and then walked back in the house.

The sky turned from black to dark gray before he finally fell back asleep. His dreams were of Connie, but in all of them she told him in a variety of ways that he had waited too long.

* * *

He walked down the beach, farther and farther from the house. He glanced back behind him and could still see the top floor, so he kept walking. It was a hot day, and humid, the breeze just blowing hot, so it was no relief. He was already sweating. He would have liked to have stopped somewhere and gotten something to drink and a chance to cool off, but he likely would be recognized, and so he did not. He looked back again and couldn't see the house anymore, so he sat down. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called her, not even knowing if she'd answer.

"Hey, babe," she said when she answered. He smiled, happy she did.

"Hey, yourself. You working today?"

"Later. I'm so glad to hear from you. How's the beach?"

He laughed. "Sandy. Hot. Humid as hell. But no rain, so I guess that's a good thing." Then he sighed. "But then you know how it is when you've got a whole bunch of people together."

"What's going on?" She sounded concerned.

"I'm feeling like maybe I waited too long. Made _you_ wait too long."

"What's brought that up?"

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "I think I've been selfish. I want _you_ but I also wanted to be with my kids. I haven't been fair to you."

"Chip.…" her voice had a warning note in it.

"No, Connie, I'm serious. I need to do this _now_. Not wait any more. I'm surprised you waited _this_ long, really."

"Stop it," she said, sounding angry. "I wouldn't have waited if I didn't want to. You should _know_ that about me." She paused. "What brought this up anyway?"

"It's just that, I mean, _you_ should be with me here. I really should have done this a long time ago. I don't even know why you didn't tell me back in the beginning to get lost or man up and just do it." She was quiet and he waited.

"Chip, don't do this. _We_ decided this. Together. I knew what the deal was. And if either of us had wanted out, we would have decided that too. I understood why you wanted to be there with your kids. And I know it's been tough for us for the last year. But we're almost there. I've got this thing I'm doing. You'll be going to do your new show soon. We wouldn't be together much anyway right now, so it's good. _We're_ good." She paused. "You know I love you, right?"

He sighed. "I do. I love you, too."

"Then don't do this anymore. It's gonna all work out."

"Time's moving too slow."

She chuckled. "I will agree with you on that. But it'll be worth it, babe." She paused. "Chip?"

"Yeah?"

"Try to enjoy the rest of your vacation. And I _will_ work it out to come see you in New Orleans."

"I'll be looking forward to that." He sighed. "How do you always know the right thing to say?"

She laughed softly. "The same way you do for me. We just do our best. And sometimes we get it right and sometimes we don't. But we're there for each other no matter what. We support each other. I feel that every day, Chip. So don't worry, okay?"

"Okay. I love you, baby."

"I love you more. I'll talk to you soon."

When they hung up, he sat for a while longer, staring out across the ocean. The rhythmic sound of the waves was calming and he felt himself relaxing. She was right – they supported each other – and he appreciated her reminding him of that. Then he pushed up from where he was sitting and headed back in the direction he came.

* * *

He was sitting at the Nashville airport, waiting for his flight to New Orleans when his phone pinged with a text. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had a text from Connie. _Hey._ He smiled and sent a text back. _Hey. Sitting at the airport. All alone._ He waited. His phone rang. "Hey," he said when he answered.

"I'm surprised you're alone."

"Those were the rules. This time is my time. I'll be here for the week, but I'm not filming the whole time."

There was a pause. "Really?" Her tone was playful.

He sat up. "Why? You had something in mind?" He knew she was busy filming Dirty John. In fact, she'd been so busy their texts and occasional calls had been quick and brief, many times just check ins.

"Well, as it happens, I have a couple days off. So I'm wondering if maybe a quick trip to, oh, I don't know, maybe New Orleans, might work. But, you know, if you're busy…."

He grinned. "Baby, I'm still alone at night."

She laughed softly on the other end of the phone. "Could I maybe interest you in a late night, say, day after tomorrow?"

He had a visual of her, all wrapped up in the sheets in his hotel bed, her head on the pillow with her hair splayed out. He took a deep breath as he felt a stirring in his crotch. "I could be persuaded," he said.

"Send me your hotel details and I'll send you my arrival time. Day after tomorrow then?"

"I'll be counting the seconds."

She laughed. "Me too."

He smiled all the way to New Orleans.

* * *

He was frustrated with how long it felt like everything was taking. He was just filming in the afternoon and they were supposed to wrap about 5:00. But it was after 6:00. Connie was arriving at the hotel around eight and he had really wanted to be there before she got there. Even though it was September, it was also New Orleans and it was still hot as hell and muggy to boot. He felt like he needed a shower. Time was creeping by and he felt a little like he was back on the set of Nashville, where things frequently moved at a snails' place, as dialog and scene set up could change frequently. It was frustrating for the actors as well as the crew.

When they were finally finished, it was 7:30. He got an Uber to his hotel and quickly texted Connie. _Running way behind today. Sorry. On my way now._ He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. When his phone buzzed, he sat up and looked down. _I'm sitting in the bar waiting for you. We got in early._ Now he just wanted to get there.

* * *

When he walked into the hotel lobby, he walked in the direction of the bar. _Where are you?_ He texted, standing just outside the door. _Go upstairs. I'll be there in 5._ He smiled and headed back towards the elevators. As he rode up, he couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since they'd been together, since they'd seen each other, and he was looking forward to spending time with her. He'd been thinking about it and wondering if there was any way they could go anywhere in the city without being recognized. He thought probably not, but he was also fine with staying in the room with her.

When he got to his room, he let himself in. He walked to the phone and called room service, ordering bourbon for his 30 days of bourbon challenge. They told him it would be about 15 minutes, so he figured Connie would be up before then. As soon as he hung up the phone, he heard the knock on the door. He hurried to open it and there she was, smiling at him. He reached for her hand and pulled her into the room, as the door closed behind her. She let go of the handle on her bag and dropped her purse as he pulled her straight into his arms and kissed her, letting his mouth and tongue linger against hers. She tasted of bourbon, a warm, slightly cinnamony taste. He let his lips press against hers for a moment before he looked down at her and smiled.

"I am so glad you're here," he said.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. "Me too," she said. "So what do you have planned for us?"

He put his hands on her face and leaned in for a kiss. "First, I have some bourbon coming up, although it seems like you don't need it," he said with a grin.

"I can always have another glass of bourbon." She held her thumb and index finger slightly apart. "Maybe not a big glass though."

He sighed. "I'm sorry you had to wait," he said.

She shook her head. "It's okay. I know how filming can be, you know." She smiled up at him again and he felt his heart turn over. He had missed her so much and now she was here and he really wished he hadn't ordered that bourbon. What he really wanted to do was strip her down and crawl into bed with her and make up for every bit of lost time. She reached up and pushed his hair back. Then she nodded towards the bed. "I'm not planning on getting out of that bed though for quite a while."

He pulled her close and kissed her again, letting his lips roam over hers, lazily kissing her while he ran his hands down her back, then cupping her ass and pulling her close. "I'm not planning on letting you," he murmured against her lips. Just then a knock came at the door and she jumped back. He shook his head. "Just room service, but to be safe…." She held her finger up, indicating she knew what to do, and then briskly walked around the corner into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

When the room service person had left the room, she came out, peeking around the wall. "All clear?" she asked with a smile.

"Yep," he said, smiling back. She ran into his arms and he lifted her off the floor as he held her tight. When he set her down, he kissed her again. She was a little breathless when he set her down.

She pointed towards the bathroom. "That's a seriously amazing bathroom," she said. "The black tile is so elegant."

"Great acoustics in there, oddly enough." She looked at him strangely and he laughed. "I know, that sounds crazy. Do not ask me why, but I took my guitar in there last night and discovered the acoustics are amazing."

Her eyes widened and she put her fingers over her mouth, but couldn't stop herself from laughing. "I do not even want to know what you were actually _doing_ in there with your guitar."

He felt his face get warm. "I promise, it's not…that." She laughed until he saw tears in her eyes, making him feel silly. "I was…."

She shook her head and waved her hand at him. "No, no, you don't have to tell me. I'll trust that it wasn't something too weird or anything." She gave him a cheeky grin. "But you do know that now you're gonna have to play something for me," she said.

He walked her backwards towards the bed, working on the belt on her jeans. He leaned in to brush her lips with his. "Not now," he growled. "Now you're all mine."

Her fingers started to work on the buttons of his shirt. "Oh, yes," she murmured. "Love before music."

They quickly finished undressing each other and he pushed her down onto the bed, standing over her for a moment. She looked up at him, a lazy smile on her face. She raised her arms to him. "Come here, babe," she whispered.

He slowly sank down on his knees in front of her. He put his hands on her inner thighs and pushed them open. He heard her softly moan. He first slid two fingers inside her and she made a noise, moving her hips. "Oh, baby, you're so ready," he said. She was. She was warm and wet and he breathed in slowly, trying to slow down his desire to just take her.

He replaced his fingers with his lips and tongue and he licked and sucked on her and she was still moaning. She pushed herself into his face. "Oh, please, Chip," she murmured. He kept his mouth on her, using his tongue to tantalize her. He could tell by the sound of her moans that she was getting close and he pulled away.

He stood up and then put one knee next to her hip. "Slide up, baby," he whispered and she did. Then he lowered himself onto her as she put her hands on the back of his neck and opened her eyes slightly. He smiled, then leaned down to kiss her, tugging at her lip until she opened her mouth to his. He took his time kissing her, letting his tongue chase hers, running it around her mouth, sucking on her lips. She threaded her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, rubbing herself against him. Finally he was so hard it hurt a little and he knew it was time. He adjusted himself slightly and then pushed into her, slowly and relentlessly, until he was all the way inside her, surrounded by her slick warmth. He didn't want to come too soon, but it didn't take long for him to let go inside her as he felt her grip him tightly, arching her back and wrapping her legs around his back as she came at the same time.

The sensations felt like they went on forever, until he finally just collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, her face tucked into the side of his neck. When his heart stopped pounding and his breathing returned to normal, he balanced himself on his elbows, so he could look down at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted so he could see a flash of her teeth. A light flush covered her face, making her freckles stand out more. He ran the back of his hand along the side of her face. She opened her eyes and smiled. "I have a surprise for you," she said.

He smiled back. "What's that?"

"I can stay another night." Then she shot him a worried look. "Is that okay?"

He ran his thumb over her cheek. "Fuck yeah, it's okay," he said. He rolled over onto his side, facing her, and she turned towards him. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second. "I wish we could go out somewhere. This is such a fantastic place for music, for food, for booze."

She smiled. "I've got that taken care of too." He raised his eyebrows. "I'll show you tomorrow."

He breathed in. "You wanna share this bourbon with me?"

She nodded. "Mm hm." He got up then and walked over to the table where the bottle was and poured two glasses. When he turned back, she had the sheet pulled up over her breasts and was watching him, a soft smile on her face. He walked back to the bed and handed her a glass, then sat down and slid under the sheets next to her, leaning back against the headboard.

"What was that look for?" he asked.

She smiled, her eyes dancing. "Well, first I was thinking what a fucking gorgeous ass you have," she said, laughing. "And then when you turned back around, I thought 'oh, hell, what a fucking great _everything_ you have'." She slid up so that she was sitting next to him, still keeping the sheet up.

He took a sip of his drink, then put his finger right at the dip between her breasts. "Why so covered up then?" he asked.

She shrugged. "No reason really. But I guess I just want to have some normal time with you." She took a swallow of the bourbon.

He tapped her glass with his. "What do you think?"

She took another sip and let it roll around in her mouth. Then she swallowed. "Rich. Creamy, almost. I can smell vanilla and taste caramel, I think. I like it."

He smiled. "Me too." He shifted a little more towards her. "So, since you have some secret disguise, what are you thinking we could do tomorrow?"

"Well, first of all, sleep in. I need maximum time with you with no clothes on. Just your skin next to mine." She gave him a sassy smile. "Then maybe a leisurely lunch somewhere nice, go find some music to listen to, come back here for a 'nap'" – she winked – "and then dinner and a nightcap. And then back to bed."

He grinned. "I like how you think," he said. Then he took her glass and, along with his, set them on the bedside table. Then he turned back to her and took her in his arms as they slid back down on the bed. He cupped one breast and began to tweak her nipple. Then he slid down a little further and took her breast in his mouth, as she fisted his hair and moaned her pleasure.

* * *

He woke up during the night, a little disoriented at first. Then he could feel her tucked into him, one arm draped across his chest and one leg under his. Her breathing was quiet and rhythmic, so he didn't want to wake her. He lay still, one arm around her shoulder, his other hand on her arm. He turned his head so he could look down at her. Her hair was splayed across his chest. He could smell the muskiness of the bar when he breathed in, wanting to run his hands through her hair, but he still didn't want to wake her. He leaned over and very gently brushed his lips across her forehead. She made a little noise and moved slightly, then settled back in the same position and let out a tiny sigh. He breathed in deeply and was a little surprised to feel tears in his eyes.

He lifted his hand and rubbed it over his face. He was tired of waiting. He wanted to see her every day. He didn't want her to have to have some kind of disguise, just so they could go out together. He wanted to be able to come home to her every night. Or vice versa. He wanted to be a dad to Yoby, to raise him the rest of the way with her. He wanted to walk out into the light with her and be able to hold her hand, put his arm around her, kiss her, and not have to hide it. He needed to figure this out.

* * *

After a leisurely morning that included a room service breakfast, including mimosas, time spent plotting out the day, and lots of sex, they had finally showered and gotten dressed. When he looked at the clock he saw that it was almost 1:30. "So do you still want to do lunch?" he asked.

She screwed up her face. "I don't know. Maybe we go find a place to listen to music and we can have a few drinks and some appetizers or something."

He smiled. "So I'll get to see your disguise?"

She laughed. "Yes." She went to her suitcase and started to root around in it. She finally pulled out what looked like something she'd put makeup or hair supplies in. She unzipped it and pulled out what appeared to be some kind of furry wild animal.

He frowned. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

She carried it to the mirror and, after she'd shaken it out a little, she put it over her hands and lifted it up and over her hair. She turned back to face him. "It's a wig, silly," she said.

He looked at the dark brown wig laying on top of her red hair. "I don't think that's gonna fool anybody, Connie."

She wagged her finger at him. "Of course not. Not like _this_ , anyway." She pointed to her head, then took it off and walked into the bathroom, laying it on the counter. He followed her. She got out a brush and some hairpins and he watched as she wrapped her hair onto the back of her head in a flat bun. Then she lifted the wig and put it back on, only this time there was no hint of her normal hair. She worked some pins into it, pulled it a little to straighten it on her head and then ran her fingers through the bangs, fluffing them slightly.

He was stunned at the change. The wig fell just below her shoulders with a slight wave to it, mostly at the ends. The bangs were thick and covered her forehead. She looked back at him in the mirror. "Damn," he whispered. She didn't even look like Connie Britton anymore.

"Does this work?" she asked.

He shook his head in amazement. "You don't look like you. At all."

She reached into the toiletries case she'd brought and pulled out a pair of dark rimmed glasses. With no makeup and only a hint of lipstick, he would have been hard pressed to say it was her. She smiled then and that's when he could tell it really was her. "See?" She looked thoughtful. "Although maybe I should have gotten a blonde wig," she said.

He frowned and shook his head. "We still need to be a little discreet, but at least no one will think it's Chip and _Connie_." He smiled a little. "Did you get that just for this?"

She laughed. "No, of course not. These things are _expensive_." She laughed again. "It's actually one we picked out for the show. At one point, Debra wore a wig so John wouldn't recognize her. It certainly makes her look more dowdy." She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you could _ever_ make yourself look dowdy, my dear," he said with a chuckle. He walked up to her and kissed her lightly. "But I like it."

She reached up and scratched at his cheek. "I feel like you need a disguise too," she said.

He grinned. "I'll wear sunglasses and a hat. That's the best I can do."

She let her hand run down his side then. "Well, let's go find a dark little place and listen to music, while we get a little tipsy."

He nodded. "Let's do it," he said. She picked up her purse as they walked out into the room and towards the door. He felt an unexpected burst of freedom and he smiled, reaching for her hand.

* * *

She was giggling when they got back to the room. They had spent the afternoon wandering down Bourbon Street, ducking into little hideaway places to watch drag queen acts and magic shows, and stopping in little shops for her to look for something for Yoby. They sat at the patio bar at Pat O'Brien's and drank hurricanes. They drew surprisingly little attention and were able to enjoy the afternoon, both of them getting little drunk. The ended up at Preservation Hall and took in a jazz show before finally heading back to the hotel.

He ordered room service and they fed each other oysters and crab étouffée. She was still wearing the wig and he still was doing a double take every now and then, amazed at how much it changed her appearance. He was staring again when she smiled at him, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers. "You kind of like the wig, don't you?" she asked.

He smiled back at her. "Yeah, I kinda do. It's like you're another person. Another very sexy person."

She raised her eyebrows. "Wanna fool around a little, with this other sexy person?"

He nodded. "I would like very much to do that," he said, getting caught up in it.

She gave him a sly smile, then stood up and straddled him where he sat on the couch. He felt himself get hard as she rubbed herself against him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in, putting her lips on his. "Somebody wants me," she whispered, before he opened his mouth to hers. He put his hands on the small of her back, then down to her ass, where he tipped her pelvis so that he could hit her sweet spot. She leaned slightly forward, the dark hair of the wig, brushing his face.

He looked up at her and she bit her bottom lip. "Somebody wants _me_ ," he said softly.

She put one foot on the floor then and stepped back. Then she reached down and unzipped her pants, moving her hips back and forth as she pushed them down, until they fell to the floor. Not taking her eyes off him, she put her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and wriggled out of them as well. He was mesmerized and took a deep breath. She raised her eyebrows. "Your turn," she said. He unfastened and unzipped his shorts, still holding her gaze. She licked her bottom lip and started to kneel down, but he grabbed her arms.

"Oh, no," he said, the sound of his voice gravelly with his need for her. "I can't wait." She straddled him again, taking her time as he slid down on the couch a little so she could wrap her legs around his back. He grabbed her hips and positioned her so that he could thrust himself inside her. She moaned as she took him completely inside her and then she put her hands on his face and kissed him.

He knew he was close and he started to buck his hips, pushing farther and farther inside her. "Oh, Chip," she murmured, over and over. He reached one hand down between them, stroking her. "Oh, God," she cried out, arching her back as she clamped down hard around him. He laid his head on the back of the couch, going for one final, hard push as he felt her come. He wasn't far behind, letting go as he held her tightly against him.

Her arms were loosely wrapped around his shoulders and she breathed in and out heavily. He continued to hold her tight, feeling her pulsing subside. He leaned into her chest, breathing in deeply, feeling her arms wrap around him more tightly. He finally leaned back and smiled. "I think I need you to take off the wig now," he said.

She laughed. "I can do that." She got up and picked up her clothes, then stood up and looked at him. "Don't you still need to have your bourbon?"

He nodded. "I do. There's a rooftop bar here."

She smiled. "Let's do that then and after that, I'll take off the wig. But" – she pointed a finger at him – "when we get back, you owe me that song in the bathroom."

* * *

He did sing her that song, sitting on the edge of the tub while she recorded it on his phone. They had come back downstairs, feeling a little mellow. She had taken off the wig and then unwound her hair, shaking it out with her fingers. They were both a little sticky, both from the afternoon and then sitting on the roof, a humid breeze in the air. It felt so normal, the two of them just enjoying the two days together, just being two normal people who didn't have complications in their lives.

He took her back to bed, undressing her slowly. When he was undressed himself, he crawled into bed with her and settled himself between her legs, making love to her twice more, trying to capture that feeling in order for it to last, until the next time, however long that would be. She clung to him, whispering how much she loved him, how much he meant to her, how loved she felt, and he said it all back to her. When they finally fell asleep, he dreamt sweet dreams of her.

* * *

When he let her go the next day, he didn't know when he'd see her next. There were still things to work through, but he was even more determined than ever to take the next step with her and not wait any longer than they had to.

And then he saw her again, sooner than he'd thought he would.


	34. Chapter 34

When the plane landed in New Orleans, he switched his phone from airplane mode. He waited as text messages, voice mails, Twitter notifications, and missed calls loaded. He was thinking that he'd never get through them all. It would be a busy several weeks. He would be filming the next two days, then headed to Williamsburg to meet Patty so they could be there for Addie's soccer game. He wasn't really looking forward to that part, but he did hope they'd get to see Addie play. As a freshman, she had been used sparingly.

He headed for the baggage carousel and waited for the oversized luggage to be taken off the plane. He took the opportunity to start sifting through his notifications. There was a text message from Connie and he opened it, smiling to himself. She'd sent it about forty minutes earlier. _Hey there. Hope you don't have plans tonight because I'm sitting over here by the rental car place._ He did a double take and read it again. Then he hurriedly texted back. _Seriously?_ The carousel started up and he glanced up, looking to see if luggage was coming out.

 _Seriously. You landed?_

 _Waiting for my guitar. You're really here?_

She texted back with the laughing emoji. _Come find out._

His heart was beating hard and he couldn't help smiling. He tapped his foot impatiently as he watched things start to come around. He picked out his guitar and hustled over so he could grab it quickly. Then he jogged towards the rental car facility. When he exited the terminal he was met first with the sultry, humid air of New Orleans. Then he started to look around quickly, but didn't see her sitting anywhere. He pulled out his phone. _Are you really here? I don't see you._

 _I see you._ He could see she was texting more. _To your left._

He turned to his left and then grinned. She had on the damn wig and dark sunglasses, her hand raised up in the air. As he headed for her, she stood up. When he reached her, he wanted to kiss her so badly, but knew he needed to wait. "Hey," he said.

She smiled. "Hey." She touched his arm lightly and quickly. "I hope you don't mind that I just showed up uninvited. I had two days off and thought I'd surprise you."

He chuckled. "Well, you damn well _did_ surprise me. Unfortunately _I_ don't have two days off."

She nodded. "I know. I'm going back tomorrow." She gave him a teasing smile. "I just wanted to spend the night with you."

* * *

When they left the airport grounds, they spent the drive catching up on what was going on and what was coming up. She told him about a new project she was being considered for and would film through November. He had one more trip down to New Orleans before his filming wrapped, then would be prepping for his Light the Night events. And he had a handful of shows going on after that. He would take her hand periodically. She would run her fingers down his arm. They had a hard time keeping their eyes off each other, especially him.

When they got closer to the hotel, she pressed his arm, and he turned to her. "Why don't you let me out on the corner or something?" she asked. "Maybe we shouldn't pull up in the same car."

He frowned. He definitely did not want to let her out on the street. "Why? You've got that wig on."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm also not your…Patty," she said quietly. He looked out the windshied. "How do you respond to someone who happens to see us or takes a picture, when you get out of the car with a woman who is very obviously not her?"

He got her point. He looked back at her. "I don't know," he said, not sure what else to do.

She waved her hand around. "Look. There are lots of people out here walking. It's not dark yet. This street is lined with hotels and businesses and restaurants and such." She smiled. "I'm carrying light." She pointed at the oversize bag she had tossed in the backseat. "I'm dressed appropriately." She was wearing jeans and a simple blouse.

He glanced at her again, still not sure, but then again there was no reason not to do it. And every reason not to pull up at the hotel valet with her in his car. _He_ was recognizable, even if she was not. He shrugged. "Okay. Whoever gets to the elevator first waits for the other."

She smiled, her beautiful sparkling smile. "Yay," she said, waving her hands by her face. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.

He dropped her at a restaurant just two blocks from the hotel. He kept his eye on her in his rear view mirror as he drove slowly towards the hotel. She was walking seemingly nonchalantly down the sidewalk. When he finally couldn't really see her anymore, he sped up and then turned into the front drive at the hotel, getting out and handing over the car to the valet. He got his bag and guitar out and headed into the lobby.

When he'd checked in, he headed for the elevator. Just before he got there, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that she was suddenly there, walking up to the elevator at the same time. She looked at him and nodded, acting like she didn't know him. "Hey," she said.

He gave her a little smile. "Hey." They both stood waiting for the elevator to come down. A couple more guests walked up and they all stood in a loose group, watching as the elevator came down. When the doors opened, she got in first, then the rest of the group.

She started to reach for the floor button, just as he was pressing the 15th floor. "Oh, thanks, I'm on that floor too," she said. He hoped neither of the other two guests were, but luckily they weren't. One of the guests was on a lower floor and the other was two floors above.

When they reached their floor, he let her walk out first, then followed. As soon as he heard the ding, signaling the doors had closed, he reached for her hand and led her to his room. He reached into his pocket for the key, holding it in front of the key reader. When it beeped and turned green, he opened the door and let her walk in ahead of him. He watched her drop her bag, then pull the wig off. The door closed behind them and she turned to face him. He set down his guitar case and overnight bag and then caught her as she ran into his arms. He held her tight and she had her arms around his neck as their lips came together and they kissed each other like it hadn't only been two weeks since they'd seen each other. He already was feeling recharged, feeling her pressed against him.

He finally, reluctantly, pulled his lips from hers. He looked down into her eyes and then pressed his lips against hers once more. He breathed in. "I'm so glad you're here," he said. "How did you know?"

"You told me," she said, with a sweet smile, just as he remembered he'd told her his schedule. "And since I have a little bit of clout, I rearranged the shooting schedule."

He smiled and kissed her again. He indicated the bed with a nod of his head. "You wanna?" he asked.

She grinned. "Yes, I do." He picked her up and then walked her to the bed, leaning over, dropping her the last few inches as she laughed out loud. Then she was reaching for him and he lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. She put her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him, then lifting her leg to drape over his. He took her mouth with his and kissed her the way he always wanted to – with great passion and love as well as tenderness.

* * *

He was lying next to her, stroking her cheek. They had left the heavy curtains open and the moon lit up the room so he could see her face. Her hand was on his hip and their legs were tangled together. He smiled. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered. He ran his fingers through her hair, now that it was freed from its constraints.

She smiled back. "Me too." She breathed in. "Even though it hasn't been that long since I saw you last, I've really missed you. I've missed _this_."

He detected wistfulness in her voice. He sighed. "Maybe after we both wrap up we can talk more about timing."

She was silent for several long minutes. "Maybe," she said. "Except, you know, is there ever a right time? There are always things to consider, if you want to know the truth." He frowned slightly. "Next it's your walk event and then it's Thanksgiving and then after that it's Christmas and your tour. Maybe one or both of us gets another job. We can come up with reasons to push things out forever, if we wanted to. And then what?" She sighed, running her hand up and down his hip. "I mean, it's kind of like deciding when to have a baby, you know? Are you the right age, have you been together long enough, have you finished doing the things you really wanted to. And are you at the right place in your career or are you financially in a good place. Before you know it, it's too late." She reached up and scratched his cheek gently, searching his eyes. "I just don't want us to wake up one day and it's too late." She looked away for a second, then back. She rolled over onto her other side and nestled into him. "I'm tired. You wore me out."

He heard a hint of teasing in her voice at the end, but her words about timing were sobering. He tucked her in close, his arm around her. He leaned in and kissed her right behind her ear. She said it all very sweetly, with no anger or disappointment, but he heard her loud and clear. She had given him a very reasoned ultimatum and now the ball was in his court. He didn't respond, just kissed her shoulder and pulled her even closer. It was time and he knew it. She might give him a little more of a leash, but it was unequivocally time.

He fell into a very unsettled sleep.

* * *

He hated that they'd had to get up early, but he had an 11:00 call time. He couldn't resist her, though, her back against him and his arm over her waist. She made a little noise and rubbed her back against his chest. "I slept so good, babe," she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

He kissed her shoulder and then let his fingers graze her skin, to just under her breasts and down almost between her legs. He felt her shiver, but he knew she wasn't cold. He dragged his fingers back up to her breasts and when he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, already felt it getting tight. He rubbed it between his thumb and index finger and she sighed. He rolled it back and forth, first more gently, then slowly squeezing more. He pulled and she moaned.

He had discovered, almost by accident, that she liked him to pinch and pull hard. It had been early in their relationship and, when one of their phones buzzed, he'd accidently pinched her tightly. She'd been laying on her back and she took his free hand and put it between her legs, where he could feel how wet she was. When he'd asked her later why she liked that, she'd looked thoughtful, then said _I don't know really. I guess it's just such an exquisite mix of pain and sexual pleasure. It turns me on like almost nothing else does. Plus you, my love, you do it better than anyone else who's tried._ He smiled to himself as he started to pinch harder. She moaned loudly, arching her back. He licked the skin behind her ear. "You like that?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she moaned, writhing against him in an unconsciously seductive way.

Between his fingers and his lips, he could feel her getting more aroused. She tried to slide her leg over his, but he pushed it back. "Not ready yet," he murmured. He twirled her nipple, pinching and tugging as he did. "What do you want me to do, Connie?"

"Make it hurt, please," she whispered. He pinched hard on her firm, erect nipple and she pressed her ass into him. "Oh, my God, I'm gonna come."

He knew she was trying to trick him into fucking her, but he wasn't quite ready. As he continued to tug, pinch, twist and squeeze, she squirmed against him, moaning and panting hard. He finally let his fingers glide down over her stomach and then between her legs, dipping two fingers inside her. "You ready for me, baby?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she groaned insistently. "Please." She moaned again, arching her back again as she draped her top leg over his hip. He let his fingers slide out, then thrust forcefully inside her. She came loudly and immediately, pushing herself back into him. He felt himself go over the edge then, emptying himself inside her. He was breathing hard against her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her tightly. She grabbed his wrist with her hand, as she tried to catch her breath. She shivered again. "That was so amazing, babe," she said, still breathless. He held her close, kissing her behind her ear.

After they had laid there for a few minutes, he gave her a hard kiss on the shoulder. "I think we need to get in the shower, baby," he said.

She nodded. "I know, but can we lay here just one more minute?"

He chuckled softly. "Yes. For you, we can stay one more minute."

* * *

It turned into more than a minute and involved steamy kissing, some major tickling, and a little cuddling at the end. He pushed her hair off her face and leaned down to kiss her gently. Then he sighed. She looked at him with a tiny frown. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"I don't believe that." She reached up and ran her palm over his face. "Tell me."

He ran his hand down her back. "Sometimes I can't believe you're still hanging in there with me."

She gave him a little smile. "I love you," she said, as though it were just that simple.

"But I've made you wait. A long time." He paused. "It's like you said last night – we can keep coming up with reasons not to leave. Or I guess _I_ can do that. Keep pushing it out for one reason or another."

She put her index finger over his lips. "Let's not spend the rest of this time on that. It will all sort itself out. I believe that." He started to say something else, but she shook her head. "I know you need to be on set, so let's go take a shower so you can do that," she said, deftly changing the subject.

He did need to go soon, so they got out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. She didn't need to leave as soon as he did, so she sat on the bed, in one of the hotel robes, while he got dressed. When he was ready, she got up and walked to the door with him. He turned to face her, putting his arms around her waist. "I know you said we shouldn't spend time on the plans, but I just want you to know I do have a very specific plan and it won't be that long from now."

She smiled, then raised up on her toes and kissed him. "I know," she said. She put her hand over his mouth. "And now we're done talking about it. I _believe_ you. I believe _in_ you. I believe in _us_."

He kissed her one last time and then let himself out of the room, heading for the elevator.

* * *

On the plane to Williamsburg from New Orleans, he knew he needed to be more definitive about an end date. He rested his elbow on the armrest and looked out of the window, letting himself just watch as they raced over the countryside, over cities and rivers and lakes. Patty had made him promise to stay until Light the Night. Actually, she hadn't made him promise, she had basically told him he _needed_ to. He wanted to leave even before that, but Connie was busy and would be into November. He didn't want to start building a life with her when he might not see her much. That didn't seem right for either of them.

 _After Light the Night. Before Thanksgiving and the holidays and all that._ That felt right, like it made sense. He had the European tour happening in January, but it meant they'd have some time together to sort through things and figure out stuff like where they'd live and balancing schedules. He sat back in his seat and felt some of the tension leave him. It felt good to have a decision, to know the end was near and when that end would be. He started thinking about whether he could bring her to Alexandria for Thanksgiving, where they might spend Christmas. It was hard to believe sometimes that they had been together for six years, navigating all the complexities of this particular balancing act. But now he felt relief. It was all set in his mind and he was happy with his plan. It would be a little over a month and then they'd be able to start that life together they kept talking about.

With that firmed up in his mind, he could let go of it and enjoy the time in Williamsburg watching Addie play at her college. She had loved soccer since she was a little girl and never lost that joy in playing. He'd known she was good enough to get on a college team and he and Patty both had been proud of her when she was offered a scholarship at William & Mary, their alma mater. He'd been ecstatic that she would be continuing the family tradition of going to college there. Spending a weekend in close quarters with Patty usually made him tense and argumentative, but this was actually something they could share. Focusing outwardly on Addie – or any of their kids – made the proximity palatable, for both of them.

When the fasten seatbelt light went out, he leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

* * *

They hadn't been back from the Nashville airport long when Patty told him she'd finally been able to book him into the Birchmere for two nights after Thanksgiving. It had become a regular thing – the Saturday and Sunday after Thanksgiving, at a venue in his hometown. It typically sold out, or nearly did, and he was always amazed and honored that so many fans would travel on a holiday weekend, from both near and far, at a time normally reserved for family, to come to a show. He was grateful for such loyal fans. So any other time, he would have been excited, but this time he was angry.

"I finally got the word that we can have the Saturday and Sunday after Thanksgiving at the Birchmere," Patty said, as he was unpacking.

He stood up and turned to face her. "I thought we weren't going to do that," he said.

"No, we didn't plan that at all. It's just that they took their sweet time letting us know."

He frowned. "Letting _you_ know, you mean."

"Well, yeah, but it's for you. We had talked about it." They had, but he had much less enthusiasm for it this time. He was angry that it probably meant postponing his plans again.

He put his fingers against his forehead, trying to remain calm. Then he threw his arms out. _Just rip off the band aid._ "I can't do this anymore," he said.

"What do you mean by that?" Now she looked angry.

"It means you keep putting stuff on the calendar, thinking you can just go on like this forever, believing you can make yourself indispensable, keeping those blinders on." He took a step towards her. "I'm talking to people who can take over managing my performances. This just isn't going to keep being the way we play this, Patty."

She tightened her jaw. "Is she giving you an ultimatum?"

He pointed at her. "Don't even go there," he warned, his teeth clenched. "This is the last thing we do. No more of this. It has to stop." He stood in the middle of the bedroom and just looked around at first. They had shared the same bed in this room for a little over five years. None of it felt welcoming, though. None of it felt like a home. He suddenly felt something just lift off of him, almost a sense of relief. It was as though everything he'd been carrying around for years had just melted away. He smiled to himself, shaking his head a little. Then he started putting things back in his suitcase. When he'd put it all back, he started for the door. "I think I'm just gonna go sleep in the guest room," he said.

"What does that mean?" Patty asked, her voice strident.

He turned back to her. "It means that's where I'll be sleeping until we go to Mom's. You may chain me here for the short term, but there _is_ a very definite end date." Then he turned back around and walked out of the room. He truly felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

* * *

The next day he headed out for a writing appointment. Patty had stayed clear of him and she was not around when he walked out to his car. As he was driving, he called Connie. He didn't expect to get her, so his plan was to leave her a message to call him when she could. So he was surprised when she answered.

"Hey, there. This is an unexpected surprise." She sounded happy to hear from him.

He smiled. "I'm the one surprised you answered." He took a deep breath. "What does after Thanksgiving look like for you?"

"Thankfully I'll have some down time. I'm pretty exhausted," she said, with a laugh.

"Well, that's my line in the sand. I've moved into the guest room and that's the timing. I don't know the precise day, because at least some things will have to be set in motion, but after Thanksgiving and before Christmas." She was silent on the other end. He waited a bit, then said "Connie?"

When she finally spoke, he had a vision of her with tears in her eyes, maybe even crying silently. "Oh, Chip." Her voice shook and she sniffed. "Are you sure? It's really time?"

He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. He had initially considered telling her about his plan to leave in early November, but decided not to. In the end it only mattered that there was an end game. "It's past time, baby. But yeah, it's time. I told Patty that." He breathed in. "It's _our_ time, baby. Finally."

"It was worth it," she said, sounding joyful. " _You_ were worth it. Worth the wait, actually."

"So can you wait just a tiny bit longer?"

"I can and I will." She laughed a little. "This is the happiest day of my life. Or at least until you surprise me here."

"Won't be long."

"I love you, Chip."

"I love _you_ , Connie. I'll talk to you soon."

* * *

One of his favorite things every year was Light the Night. It had all started, for him and Patty, back after Addie was declared cancer-free when she was a young child. Diagnosed with leukemia at 2 ½, that had been a dark and scary time for their family. Although the odds were heavily in Addie's favor and their youngest never really lost her sunny, happy personality even through all the painful treatment, the experience had really put a hold on everything in their lives. Their whole focus was on Addie getting well, and then working hard to ensure their other two kids weren't left out.

When they got the word that Addie was cancer-free, the joy they felt in that news somehow didn't translate back to them. They were thrilled, of course, and so grateful, but in that long couple of years, they'd lost focus on each other and never got back into their old rhythm. He had thought that one day that would change, but when it didn't, he just moved forward. He didn't feel, at least initially, compelled to do anything more than be a good dad to his kids and work together with Patty to create a loving home for them. As the kids got older, their half-hearted attempts to retain intimacy with each other faded away, and left them just going through the motions of life. Not bad enough to split, but neither were they working at repairing things.

One of the things that had bound them together though was their support of the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society. They had benefited from them when Addie was sick and it became a shared vision to give back. So it was always one of the highlights of his year, doing that walk with his family, giving generously so that others afflicted could be helped. When he'd come to Nashville, he'd had the opportunity to put more of a spotlight on it. His celebrity called positive attention to it and he created a team so that others could help. Every year the effort got bigger. Many of the show's fans joined the team, even walked in the Nashville walk, and he appreciated it immensely.

He and Patty were partners in his growing dedication to doing more and more to support that cause. She had spearheaded an event for walkers and he performed. Every year the event got bigger and more of not only his cast mates, but other artists he'd met as he embedded himself more into the Nashville music community, joined in as well. They were able to secure larger venues and gave all the profits to LLS. This particular year had seemed different. While he was still energized by both the event and the emotion of it, he was still feeling a deep hole in his life after the show's cancellation. Life after Nashville, the show, and Connie's presence in the city, had sapped a lot of the positive energy from him. Even with a plan in place for his personal future, his excitement in the event seemed slightly dimmed. They hadn't been able to secure a venue for his traditional after-walk show and he was worried about that. They would still do a show, but his heart was not as in it as before.

As the walk approached, though, he found himself getting more energized by the anticipation. Fundraising was at another high and his excitement returned. Even with the disappointing turnout for the free show, he again felt that runner's high he always did during the event. Taylor had told him once that he was like a crazy person that weekend, constantly in motion, and he supposed that was true. He always felt like it was on him to create a great experience for everybody and he also was cognizant of the many fans who showed up to walk with him and never wanted them to leave with less than a joyful feeling about being a part of it.

When it was over and everyone had left and it was just their family, he felt renewed. He had already acknowledged to himself that it would probably always be a family event, one he and Patty would share in some way, since Addie was their daughter. But he was looking forward to hopefully having Connie and Yoby with him the next year and have it be bigger than ever.

* * *

It had been his original plan to leave after they'd taken Addie to college. But then he got the part in Tell Me Your Secrets and Connie was totally wrapped up in Dirty John. He had then thought it might be after Light the Night, but in the end it was going to be after Thanksgiving. With just him and Patty in the house, it had felt quiet, cold, more like a house than a home. He continued to sleep in the guest room. She mostly stayed out of his way. He was writing more, which gave him a release while he waited. Patty went and visited her mom in Florida. He started to plan his set list for Europe in January. Connie was working on a movie and they talked most every night. She had two others lined up for after the holidays. They talked a little cautiously about the future, almost as though they didn't want to mess it up.

They drove up to Alexandria for Thanksgiving at the beginning of that week. Taylor and Chase rode up with them. They stopped to pick up Addie on the way. There was lots of chatter and laughter in the car and he let himself enjoy it. Things were about to change for all of them and, not knowing what it would all look like in the end, he wanted to enjoy the time. He did take a few moments here and there along the route to think about what it might be like in a year. He wanted to be making a similar drive with Connie and Yoby, maybe making some time to show Connie's son the places along the way where they both grew up.

He imagined the three of them sitting at the Thanksgiving dinner table the next year. And, as he did his two shows at Birchmere, he hoped she might be watching him from the side stage. Maybe he could even talk her into coming out and doing one song with him, at least.

He had hugged his kids too tight, wondering how they would react to the news that he and Patty were splitting up, scared he would lose them all forever. He wondered what they'd think about Connie, and even when he should introduce that change. Patty was the wild card, as he had no idea what she would say or do. Would she spew all her anger out and then turn the kids against him? Would she make his life difficult as they went their separate ways? Would she demand everything? Would she trash him publicly? He understood that she could do any or all of those things. He understood that she might want to hurt him the way he'd hurt her. The future was both brilliant and unknown.

None of the kids were going back with them. He packed up the car and then went for a run. He stopped and called Connie, but got her voice mail. He quickly told her his plans and that he expected he and Patty would discuss next steps when they got back to Nashville. That he would keep her up to date on how it all went. When he got back to his mom's house, he ate breakfast and showered and then he and Patty got on the road. The plan was to stop in Roanoke for the night, stop again in Johnson City, and then finish the drive to Nashville.

They didn't talk. The radio was on or it would have been silent. About an hour into the drive, she said, "So, this is it?"

He glanced over. She was staring straight ahead, her jaw set. He took a deep breath and then let it out. "Yeah, this is it," he finally said. They hadn't talked about it since they had returned from Williamsburg. She hadn't brought up Connie anymore or even alluded to her, really. It had hung in the air between them, for years, and she had just tightened the reins on him, choreographing his life as much as she could, keeping him close. She had never been completely successful, and he was pretty sure she knew that, but it was her way of fighting without acknowledging the elephant in the room.

"Will you leave right away?" She still wouldn't look at him but he could hear the shakiness in her voice.

He considered that. "I don't have specific plans," he said. "I've got a few loose ends to tie up."

She was quiet for a few minutes. Then she looked at him, her face a mix of anger and hurt. "I think it would be a good idea if you flew back to Nashville from Roanoke. I don't think I can do this drive…with you."

He nodded. "Sure. I can do that."

The silence stretched out between them. Then she cleared her throat. "Did you ever…try?"

He frowned. "Try what?"

She huffed. "To not do…that. To not give in to that."

He wasn't sure how to answer that. The only time he and Connie had really been apart, except for filming breaks, was when she was seeing Daniel Lindley. Sometimes she would ponder over it, wonder if they were doing the right thing. The real truth was that he hadn't tried. He'd been all in from the beginning. But the truth also was that the chasm between him and Patty had been there long before Connie. Had there never been Connie, he would have probably stuck with it, if for no other reason than that it was comfortable, familiar. But once there _was_ Connie, there was no going back for him. "It's not that simple," was his answer.

She frowned then. "Sure it is, Chip. It's a yes or no answer."

"You sure you want a yes or no answer? Or would you rather just file it away somewhere, like everything else?" He hadn't meant to sound so irritated, but the passive-aggressiveness of the past few years had really gotten under his skin.

She crossed her arms over her waist and looked away, saying nothing.

* * *

They were about thirty minutes outside of Roanoke. The drive had felt so much longer than it needed to, with the heavy silence around them. He decided this might be his last chance to say anything, so he did. "I know you want to blame her or blame me, blame the show or the city. I guess that makes it easier, but you know it's not like I woke up one day and decided this wasn't working. I'll be honest, it could have just gone on like it had been. We could be parents together and good, loving friends and that would have been okay. Not super fulfilling, but okay." He sighed. "None of this was my intent. And I know it hurt you and I'm sorry about that. I really am. But we'll both be better off this way."

She didn't say a word.

* * *

When they got to the hotel, she unbuckled her seat belt and quickly reached for the door handle but he grabbed her arm. "Wait," he said. She sighed deeply and sat back, not looking at him. He put his elbow on the windowsill and rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to think about what he wanted to say. "I didn't come to this without a lot of soul searching," he began. "I need you to know that." He took a deep breath. "I never expected things to be like this, back when we got married. Back when we had the kids. That was never my plan. I think we both know things shifted over time, back when we were still in LA."

She was sitting with her fists clenched in her lap and he could see the tension in her posture. "I was there for you, Chip. Every single day." Her words were clipped and measured. "I took care of things, made sure you..." – she turned to look at him then, fury in her eyes – "I managed your whole life, damn it! I took your chaos and made order out of it. I was always there for you, even through all… _this_. _Her_."

He looked out the windshield. "I know that. I don't know what to say." He sighed. "I could say that you could have said something. You never did. I wanted to keep things as normal as I could for the kids, but if you'd just forced my hand, we could have figured it out."

"So it's on _me_? It's _my_ fault?"

He shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I'm saying." He waved his hand. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant at all." He turned to her and put his hands on his chest. "This is all on _me_. I know that. I take full responsibility." He breathed out. "I made a choice. And I get that you didn't have much say in that choice. Or any." He could see she was ready to protest. "I'm sorry. I know that's not enough and it'll never be enough, but I do care about you. A lot. We had some great years and a lot of really good ones. We raised three amazing kids together. I'll never discount that. I don't want us to hate each other, although I get why you might want to hate me."

"I hate what you've done," she said. He decided not to say anything, in case she had more to say. Which she did, eventually. "I could see it pretty much from the start. The way the two of you looked at each other, the way you tried to make it seem like it was nothing. Both of you. It was awkward, although I'm guessing you didn't see that. I never said anything because of the kids. Which I guess is why you didn't either. I kept waiting, Chip, waiting for you to be honest with me. Waiting for you to tell me that you… _loved_ her." She choked on a sob and he felt tears in his eyes.

He turned to her. "Patty, I…."

She held up her hand. "No. It's my turn." He nodded. "You're right, that some things _did_ change, but I still loved you. And that's the hardest part of this. I hoped, when she quit, that things would change, but they really didn't, did they? I know you kept on seeing her. Was it often?"

He took a deep breath. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, actually, it does."

He shrugged. There was no need to lie at this point. "Not as much. Especially after she left Nashville."

"Do you even know if she's waiting…for you?" She shook her head then. "Don't answer that." He really hadn't wanted to answer that. As much as he wanted to leave and as difficult as the last few years had been, it would have felt like rubbing salt in the wound. She was letting go now, though, and he no longer had any desire to pile on.

* * *

Sitting in the gatehouse at the airport in Roanoke the next morning, the words of an old Deacon song came into his head. _The night is done / My time has come / To turn and face the sun._ He smiled to himself, thinking it was finally his time. _Their_ time.

* * *

When he landed in Nashville and picked up his bag, it occurred to him that he needed to find a place to stay. And figure out his plan. Patty wouldn't be back for two days, so he drove by the house. When he opened the door to the kitchen, he was struck by how quiet it was. He stood by the island and looked around the room. They'd bought this house before season 2, right when they'd started filming. It was the kind of house Patty had always wanted. Living in California, they always lived in small houses, often rentals. So to be able to put roots down in Nashville and make a life had been welcomed.

It was a big house, bigger by far than anything they'd ever lived in before. It was grand, with a two-story foyer and plenty of bedrooms, plus a great back porch. He wondered if Patty would want to stay here. He knew the house had appreciated in value and they would be able to net a sizeable profit, enough for both of them to get started elsewhere. He supposed it would be one of many decisions they'd have to make.

He made a hotel reservation first at one of the downtown hotels, then spent some time working through flight arrangements to LA. He hadn't quite been prepared for Patty to want to talk all this out so quickly and he hadn't wanted to get Connie's hopes up, only to disappoint her. After he made his flight plans, he reached for his phone to call her, then set it down, thinking he would surprise her instead. _This is the happiest day of my life. Or at least until you surprise me here._ He smiled to himself, then got up from the desk and headed to his bedroom to pack enough for at least two weeks. He headed for the den and put one of his guitars in a case and then walked back out to the kitchen. He wrote out a quick note to Patty, letting her know that he would call her in a few days to discuss next steps.

He looked around one more time, then went out to his car, locking the house behind him. He put his bag and the guitar case in the trunk and headed out. As he drove down the street, he looked back at the house in his rear view mirror. That's what it was now – a house – and no longer a home. Then he looked forward, feeling, for the first time in a long while, free.


	35. Chapter 35

As he walked down to the gatehouse for his flight, he felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. He'd gone back and forth the night before as to whether he should call Connie after all and let her know what was going on. But he'd stuck to his plan. He knew she was home, because Yoby wasn't out for the holidays yet, and it wasn't really that he thought anything had changed. The last time he'd actually seen her was when she came to New Orleans, although they'd had lengthy conversations since. But he had to acknowledge to himself that the reality of him standing in front of her would be different from the things they'd said, and promised, to one another on the phone. He'd never been one to assume things or be too confident and this was no different. But he was still excited – to see her, to make plans, to move forward together.

When he'd gotten to his hotel room, he'd felt relieved. The burden had lifted and he was free to live his life the way he'd wanted to, ever since he and Connie had gotten together. He felt okay about surprising her. He really wanted to be able to tell her everything in person, see her reaction, and talk to her about what she wanted to do next. He put headphones on as soon as he got on the plane, sliding down in his seat, his head against the airline pillow pressed against the window of the plane, and his eyes closed. Almost as soon as the plane took off, he was asleep.

* * *

He walked off the plane and into the terminal. He felt strangely nervous, then realized it was anticipation. He couldn't wait to see Connie's face and hear her reaction. He was smiling to himself as he headed down the escalator to baggage claim and then while he waited for the oversized bags to come off the plane and circle around the carousel. He pulled off his guitar case. Then he put his duffle over his shoulder and headed outside.

He sat on one of the benches near where the rental car buses picked up. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called her. She picked up almost immediately.

"Hey!" she said when she answered. She sounded happy to hear from him.

He smiled. "Hey yourself." He took a deep breath. "So what are you doing right now?"

"Oh, sitting outside on the patio with my coffee. Enjoying the weather, enjoying being by myself and not having anything to do today. What are _you_ doing right now?"

He leaned back against the wall behind him. "Well, let's see. I'm sitting here waiting for a rental car bus."

"Where's here?"

"LAX." He waited to see how she would respond.

There was a brief moment of silence. "What? You're here? In LA?"

"Yep."

He heard a little gasp. "Why are you here? Where are you staying? How long will you be here? Does anyone know you're here?" She sounded a little breathless.

He paused for a second. "Why don't we talk about that when I get there? Well, unless you don't want me here."

There was a pause. "I absolutely want you here. Please hurry."

"Then I'll be there shortly." A bus pulled up just as he disconnected. He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and slid them on, picked up his things and headed over to the door.

* * *

He'd splurged a little on a convertible. Even for December, the weather was nice and the sky was clear blue and the sun was shining. And it was LA, so a convertible seemed appropriate. He had set his GPS for Connie's house and was on the freeway. Even though it was late morning, traffic was, as always, heavy. He found himself getting irritated and losing patience. He was ready to be there. Finally he got to the highway exit and started working his way through the surface streets on his way to her house. She had a new house he'd never been to, but she'd sent him lots of pictures, particularly of the sumptuous master suite. When he found the house, the gate was open and he headed down the drive.

It was a stunning house, a two-story Mediterranean style covered in ivy. He took off his sunglasses and got out of the car. Just as he shut the car door, he saw her front door open and she came running out, straight for him. She wrapped her arms around him and he held on tight as she put her hands on his cheeks and leaned in for a long kiss. When she finally pulled her lips from his and he set her back down on the driveway, she smiled up at him. "I am so happy you're here." He could see the tears glistening in her eyes and all the tiny worries he'd had vanished. She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the house. "I _do_ want to hear everything. But first, I just want _you_."

He followed her into the house and he tried to look around, but she pulled him towards the stairs. "You're not going to show me around?" he asked, with a grin, obviously tongue in cheek.

She frowned at him, although she had a smirk on her face. "I'll do that later. Right now, we've got some business to take care of." He laughed and let her lead him up to her bedroom.

* * *

The room was spectacular, just as she'd said, although he hadn't had much time to look. By the time they had walked into her bedroom, they couldn't wait. She grabbed at his belt, fumbling with getting it unbuckled. He pushed her hands away and unfastened the belt and unzipped his jeans. When he had pushed his jeans and boxers down to his feet and stepped out of them, she had gasped, seeing how ready he was for her. He turned her around, pushing her up against the wall. He pulled her yoga pants off and then nudged her legs open. He'd missed her so much and couldn't wait to be inside her, so he thrust himself into her forcefully.

She moaned as she took him in. "Oh, God, Chip," she murmured. He waited as she made the little move to adjust herself to him, the move that always drove him wild with desire. He almost came right then, but took a deep breath to settle himself. She pushed her ass back against him, her signal she was ready, and he started moving inside her, knowing he was right at the edge.

He kissed her neck right behind her ear. "I've missed this," he whispered in her ear. He knew he wasn't going to last long and he started moving faster, panting in her ear. Her response was to slide her hand down between her legs, stroking herself as she threw her head back against his shoulder, moaning softly. He shouted out incoherently as he let go, driving deep inside her as he felt her pulsing around him. He put his hands on the wall, on either side of her, as he struggled to catch his breath. Then he pressed his lips against her neck and then down along her shoulder, as she leaned against the wall.

After a moment, he felt her shaking, and then realized she was crying. He frowned. "What's wrong, baby?" he whispered in her ear. She sniffed and he stepped back and turned her around to face him. "Connie?"

She finally breathed out and wiped her eyes. She shook her head and gave him a brave smile. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all," she said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he looked down at her, reaching up to brush a stray tear with his thumb. "I'm just so glad you're here. I've missed you so much."

He led her to the bed, turning down the sheets. She crawled onto it as he followed. He pulled her into his arms as he drew the sheet up. Then he kissed her gently. He smoothed her hair with his hand. "I missed you too."

She looked puzzled. "So what happened? And why didn't you call me first?"

He smiled. "Well, I didn't call you first because I wanted to surprise you."

She grinned. "You definitely did that," she said.

"As far as what happened, I told you I had said Thanksgiving was the line in the sand." She nodded. "And I had moved to the guest room. We went to Mom's with the kids and then I had the two shows at the Birchmere on Saturday and Sunday nights. The kids all took off in their own directions and we got on the road for Nashville." He sighed. "She brought it up. By the time we got to Roanoke, we were done. I got my own room and made plans to fly home." He smiled. "And now, here I am."

"So now I know _why_ you're here," she said. "But what about where you're staying, how long you'll be here, and whether anyone knows you're here."

He smiled, then leaned in to kiss her. "I hope I'm staying with you. I'll stay as long as you want me to. And I did tell Taylor I'd be out of town, so someone would know. No specifics though."

"Well, of course you can stay with me, however long you want." She ran her hand down his arm. "So you said you'd have to go back though."

He nodded. "Just for a few days, I think. I want to get things in motion. Work through as many details as we can, decide who files, all that kind of thing."

She looked pensive. "And then you'll come back?" He caught a touch of anxiety in her question.

"Yes." He kissed her. "Don't worry. This is the beginning of the rest of our lives together." He could see her get teary eyed again.

She gave him a soft smile. "It's not really that I never thought we'd get here, but I've wondered how difficult it might be." She traced a line across his chest. "You haven't told your kids yet?"

He shook his head. "It's something we'll do when I'm back there. I know it won't be easy. I'm not sure how they'll react."

She looked at him for a moment, as though she was thinking through what she'd say. "I think you have to expect they'll be hurt, upset, even angry. Let them go through that. I'm sure they'll come around." He _wasn't_ so sure. It was the biggest wild card in all this and his biggest fear was that they would turn away from him. He worried that, even though he'd made every effort to be there for them, that it wouldn't be enough. That Patty might poison the relationships or even just that they might be too angry to ever heal the wound. She touched his cheek and he looked at her. "Don't do that," she said.

He frowned. "Do what?"

She looked at him seriously. "I can see you thinking. You've decided it's going to be the worst case scenario."

"No, I haven't," he said stubbornly. She knew him well, though.

She nodded. "Yes, you have." She leaned in and kissed him. "I can see it. But don't do it. You don't know how it'll go. And it could be different for each one." She kissed him again. "You don't have to say anything about me right at first." She looked at him, concern in her eyes. "You weren't planning to do that, were you?"

He sighed. "I hadn't really thought it all out, to be honest. But you're right. It's not like I have to do that right away." He looked back at her. "I don't want it to seem like I'm afraid to tell them though."

She shook her head. "It's going to be enough, at first, for them to just absorb that you're getting divorced. Everything doesn't have to happen all at once."

He ran the back of fingers against her cheek. "I guess it doesn't matter. They'll be mad no matter what."

She sat back then and let her fingers trail down his arm to take his hand in hers. "Try not to anticipate what's going to happen, babe." She breathed in and smiled. "So now I need to go pick up Yoby from school. I was thinking you could wait here and surprise him when we get back."

He reached out and stroked her cheek again. "I'd like that. I'm looking forward to seeing him."

She started to slide off the bed, then turned back to look at him. "He'll be thrilled." Then she got up and walked to her closet to get dressed.

* * *

When he turned into the neighborhood, it felt like he'd been gone for years and not just a week. It all felt strange and unfamiliar, which surprised him. Then he realized he was finally living an authentic life. No more stress, no more waiting. In the short time he'd been in California, he and Connie had slipped in and filled out each other's lives, in a way he hadn't expected to happen so fast. When he pulled into the driveway, he sat for a moment, breathing deeply in and out. It wasn't that he was afraid to see Patty, but he didn't know her mood or how she'd approach all this, now that she'd had a few days to think about things.

He finally got out of the car and around to the back of the house. He jogged up the steps to the back porch and then let himself in. He looked around. The house was quiet, still. Then he heard the clatter of dog paws on the hardwoods as Blue burst across the kitchen, wiggling and jumping all over him. He couldn't help but chuckle as he hugged the dog. "Hey there, Blue," he said. "Missed you, buddy." He rubbed the dog's back. "How you been?" Blue barked and jumped around some more. He got down on one knee, as he continued to pet the squirming dog. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Patty walk out of the office. After a final rub on Blue's back, he stood up, sticking his thumb into his back pocket. "Hey," he said, trying to start things off pleasantly, hoping they'd stay that way. Or cordial, at a minimum.

"Hey," she said. He couldn't really read her expression, but it seemed neutral. "Did you get in last night?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He didn't move and neither did she.

She sighed. "You want to come in here?" She pointed towards the office.

He shrugged. "Sure." He walked over and then followed her, Blue tagging along behind. He looked around the room. She had several neat stacks on the desk, along with a pen and pad of paper.

She gestured towards the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "You want to sit?" He nodded and did as directed. Blue sat next to him and then slid down onto the floor. She sat as well and waved her hand towards the stacks. "I went ahead and organized some things. I hope that's okay."

He nodded. "Of course."

She first picked up a folder and handed it to him. It was somewhat thick and, when he opened it, he saw paperwork related to the January tour in Europe. She cleared her throat. "I've already sent this over to your new manager and went over all the details with him. This is really for you, so you know all the arrangements I made."

"Thanks, Patty. I really…." She waved him off.

"These are bills," she said, sliding a stack over to him. Then she looked at him. "I've set up my own checking account and I moved half the money in our joint account into it." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure that seems a little presumptuous, but I think it's fair."

He waved his hand. "Of course."

She nodded. "You should change the joint account to your own account. If you have time before you leave, that is."

"I'll be here a few days." He didn't know why he said that. He really didn't owe her any explanations anymore, but it was still a habit.

"I also packed up your clothes and all the other things that belong to you and put them in the guest room. If you want them shipped…out there, I'll let you arrange that."

He shook his head. "I'm going to store that stuff here for now." She looked at him curiously. Unnecessarily, he said, "That's something still to be worked out, but I'm going to have at least a small place here." He breathed out. "Are you going to stay here?"

She shook her head. "No." She pushed a piece of paper across the table. "I think we should sell the house. I took the liberty of having an agent come out yesterday who's sold a lot of houses in the area. Where the house is valued now, we'll make a significant profit on it. We can split that."

"So you said you aren't going to live here. Does that mean here at the house or here in Nashville?"

"Nashville. I'm going to move to Florida once the house sells. You should tell me what furniture you want now, or at least soon, so I can arrange to have it sent where you want."

"Patty, I…." he started to say he didn't want anything, that she could have it all, but he thought about the fact that he would need some of it so he could furnish a place in town. He and Connie had not talked about where they'd live. He thought she probably assumed it would be LA, but he really didn't want to lose his connection to Nashville. He'd grown to love the city and the opportunities to create music and he knew he wanted someplace to land when he came back for that, not just a hotel room. He also was sure they'd work it out in due time. He nodded. "I'll give you a list. Just let me know when I'll need to get it stored."

Then it seemed like all the air was sucked out of the room. Ending a marriage, it turned out, was hard, even if it was what he wanted. This had felt businesslike, almost cool, as though there had never been a time when things had been good. She looked up at him then. "I want Blue," she said, her voice quiet. When Blue heard his name he wagged his tail, beating it against the floor.

It felt like a knife to his heart. He loved Blue. He was a part of the family and it hurt to give him up. But Blue had always loved Patty best, so he swallowed and nodded. "Of course."

She breathed out, almost like she had been holding her breath. "So, I guess, really, all that's left is to call the kids." Chase and Addie were both back at school, although they'd be coming back home soon for Christmas. _Home._ He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. They would be home, but he wouldn't, for the first time since before they were born. She had arranged a call for all of them and he almost felt a sense of relief that he wouldn't see the hurt and anger on their faces. She started to pick up her phone, but then stopped, looking at him. "I think you should do the talking," she said. It was something that he hadn't expected.

He swallowed. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, looking at him evenly. "You were the one who wanted this," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "I think you need to tell the kids and what's next." He started to say something, but she kept on. "So, I don't want to get into all the ugliness, okay?" He nodded. "I just want to be straightforward. _Our_ lives might be changing, but I don't want them to feel there's a side to be on."

"I appreciate that, Patty."

He could see her bristle, but then she breathed out and seemed to relax. "I'm not doing it for _you_ , but I don't want them to feel that it wasn't _our_ choice. I'm not…well, I know you love them, and they love you. I don't want that to change." He just nodded. She breathed in. "You ready?" He nodded again, although he wasn't at all sure that he was. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone, then started to conference everyone in, starting with Taylor.

* * *

When he let himself into his hotel room, he felt like he had been beaten up. It was, without a doubt, the hardest thing he'd ever done. He'd been teary eyed during the entire conversation, wondering if the kids were doing the same. He had to admit the call had gone about the way he'd expected. Addie had wailed and cried. _Why? I don't understand this. You didn't fight. You were never unhappy. How can this happen?_ He couldn't be sure, but he thought she was upset with both him _and_ Patty. Chase and Taylor were mostly quiet, Chase muttering fuck more than once, so quietly he almost wasn't sure he'd really heard it. At the end of the call, Taylor said, "I'm sorry, Dad, Mom." There was very little else said.

 _He tried to be very matter of fact in how he told them. He knew his voice was low and quiet as he talked. He couldn't even look at Patty and there were times when he choked a little on the words, but he'd gotten through it. Mom and I did a lot of talking on the way home. We've both decided we're going to move on separately. We love you all very much and nothing changes about that. She echoed what he'd said, told them she loved them all. It had felt very unsettled at the end of the call and they both had just stood there afterwards, not knowing what to say to each other at first._

 _She looked at him finally, her face like a mask. "Let me know who your lawyer is and I'll pass that on to mine." He'd been surprised at first that she'd already gotten a lawyer, but then he realized he shouldn't have been. Then her eyes narrowed a little. "I'd like for you to at least wait until after the holidays to tell the kids about…her." He nodded. "Will you even be here then?"_

 _He shrugged a little. He really didn't know, because he and Connie had decided to wait until he came back to talk about all those kinds of logistical things. But he didn't plan to not spend Christmas with her. "Probably not."_

He'd left almost immediately afterwards, telling Patty he'd be back the next day to organize what he wanted transported to a storage unit and to sign the listing agreement for the house. Patty wanted to be the one to file for divorce, which he was fine with, and they drafted a statement to be released to the press the following Monday. Irreconcilable differences. That was what they would say.

 _After a lot of thought and prayer, we have decided to end our marriage. As happens sometimes, we grew apart and found ourselves seeking different things in life. Please give us privacy as we work through this._ It was as good as it could be, he guessed. And just like that, it was over.

His heart ached, mostly for his kids. He walked over to the window and looked out over the Nashville skyline. He had no regrets about moving on, but he hated the pain he had sensed from his kids. He thought back to his own experience. He hadn't seen the strain between his parents, had never suspected they were no longer happy together. He guessed it was the same with Taylor, Chase and Addie. He and Patty had done a good job of putting on a positive public face. They never fought when the kids were around. The social media posts he made, at her direction, were, in retrospect, flawless in creating that illusion, despite anything his mom and sister had said. But even though he knew this was best for him and Patty, he still couldn't help feeling sad.

He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled out his phone. When she answered, he smiled. "Hey, baby," he said.

"Hey," she said. He could tell by the tone of her voice that she'd been worried about him. "How did everything go?"

He shrugged and sighed. "I guess about the way I expected. Patty had everything planned, right down to listing the house and packing up my clothes. When we called the kids, Chase and Taylor didn't say much. Addie was upset. No one had a lot to say, really."

"I wish I was there to just hug you," she said.

He smiled. "I wish you were too." He paused, as tears filled his eyes again. "This is hard."

"I know. But you'll get through it. And remember, you can lean on me."

He heard a beep and held his phone away from his ear. It was Taylor. He put the phone back to his ear. "Baby, Taylor's calling. I'm thinking I should…."

"Take it, babe. I'll talk to you later."

He disconnected and picked up the call from his daughter. "Hey, Tay," he said.

"Hey, Dad. Um, how long are you in Nashville?" She sounded sad.

"I leave day after tomorrow."

"Could we meet for lunch tomorrow?" He had an appointment with a lawyer first thing in the morning but it wouldn't take long.

He closed his eyes, feeling tears welling up. He smiled a little. "I would love to, sweetie. Where?"

"BarTaco? Noon?"

"I'll be there."

* * *

He was there early and had ordered a ginger grapefruit agua fresca for Taylor and iced tea for himself. When he saw her walk in, he stood and she headed his way. He wasn't sure what to expect, but she reached out to hug him and he held her close. As they sat, he motioned toward the drink. "I went ahead and got drinks," he said.

She smiled. "Thanks." They looked at the menu and ordered, then sat back. The silence lingered and he felt nervous. They didn't usually have trouble talking to each other, but things were different now. He was sure he'd disappointed her. Then she crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. "So, what really happened?" He opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. "I don't really think Mom wanted this. Or maybe thought it was coming."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry, sweetie." He breathed in. "We talked about it on the way home from Virginia. I'm not sure she thought things were this far along, but we were trying not to have you kids end up in the middle of it."

She nodded. "I get it." She gave him a steady look. "I knew you were unhappy. I'm guessing she was too, but maybe didn't want to acknowledge it."

He shrugged. "Maybe."

She reached across the table with her hand and he took it, squeezing her fingers gently. "I'm okay. Chase is okay. I think it'll take Addie a minute, maybe more than a minute, but she'll get there." She smiled a little. "I want you _and_ Mom to be okay, to be happy." She looked at him curiously. "So you guys said you were gonna sell the house. Where will you live?"

He breathed in. "Not sure, exactly. I want to have a place here, but I think I'll be splitting time between here and, uh, LA." She nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. "I still want to do my music, so I need to keep one foot here. And I still need to be where the acting jobs are." He thought that seemed reasonable.

"That's good." She smiled again. "I'm glad." Their food came then and they waited until the server had left. He picked up his fork. Taylor looked back at him and said, "I love you, Dad. I've always loved you and I'm gonna love you forever. I trust you and Mom made the right decisions, especially for each other."

He got a little teary-eyed and couldn't say anything, so he just nodded. Then they ate, first in companionable silence, then eventually talking about other things, staying away from the breakup of the family. The atmosphere felt more comfortable and he started to relax.

* * *

Later, as he was driving back to his hotel, he realized what she'd asked him the day before. _How long are you in Nashville?_ He'd never said he'd gone anywhere else, but he also remembered what his mom had said to him at the beach. _I'm pretty sure Taylor's not clueless._ He sighed. It seemed maybe she was right.

* * *

He felt a sense of relief, as he drove from the airport to Connie's house. There was still a lot to work through, between him and Patty, as well as with Connie. He thought he should have realized that, but he just hadn't. He and Patty had agreed on everything in principle, but his lawyer had told him that until they received the filing, they wouldn't know if there were any surprises. He had sent over the press release to his publicist before he left Nashville. It was simple – just that he and Patty had decided to separate, that it was amicable, and they asked for privacy. And then he would wait.

He had called Connie from the airport when he landed. She was waiting at the door when he got there. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he pulled her close. She looked at him closely, concern in her eyes, and then she kissed him. She pulled back and put her hand on his cheek, just looking at him as though she was trying to decide how he really was. He smiled and she smiled and then she took his hand, leading him inside.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

He started to say no, but then he realized it had been a long time since he'd eaten, and that had just been coffee and a bagel from Starbucks at the airport. "Yeah," he said.

"Would leftover Chinese work?" He nodded and she busied herself pulling take out containers from the fridge and then heating up the food in the microwave. She divided everything onto two plates and they sat at her kitchen table and ate quietly. When he was finished, she picked up the plates and put them in the dishwasher. She came and sat back down, just looking at him for a moment. "How are you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess as good as anyone would feel after ending a marriage." He caught a look in her eyes and quickly reached for her hand. "No regrets, baby. I promise," he said.

She smiled and nodded. "I know." She squeezed his hand. "But I also know that it's still not easy. There's a lot to unpack." She sighed. "I wish I could have been there with you."

He smiled back at her. "But you're here now. And I just want to go to bed with you and just hold you."

"We can do that." She stood and he stood with her. Then he followed her up to the bedroom.

They undressed quickly and slid under the covers. He reached for her and pulled her in, letting himself just embrace the warmth of her skin and drink in the faint citrus smell of her skin. He tangled his fingers in her hair and she snuggled into him and laid her head on his shoulder. For a little while he just held her, but, as always, her nearness was intoxicating, and he began to kiss her. She let her lips fall open and he gently touched her tongue, lazily kissing her. As the kissing got more intense, he let his hands roam over her body and she did the same.

He pulled his lips from hers and placed little kisses all over her face, her eyes, her ears, her neck, and her nose. Then he slid down a little to kiss her shoulders and then her breasts, letting his tongue linger on her nipples, until he felt them tighten up. She made little moaning sounds, which just increased his desire for her. His erection was against her hip and she started to reach for him, but he slid further down, kissing her stomach, the tops of her thighs, and then settled between her legs as he pushed them apart. Her breathing got more labored and the little moans got louder. He deftly flicked her with his tongue and she groaned, arching her back and lifting her butt slightly off the bed. He slid his tongue inside her and began sucking on her, as her moans got louder and she kept pressing herself into his face.

As he sensed her getting closer to the edge, he backed off, and she whimpered her disappointment. He pushed two fingers inside her and she gasped, whispering his name. He slid his fingers in and out slowly, drawing out the sensations. By this point, he was almost painfully hard, trying to hold back his own orgasm. That's when he rose up and hovered over her. Her lips were slightly parted, she was panting, her face looked soft. He moved inside her slowly and deliberately and she moaned his name. After just a couple thrusts, they both came explosively as she cried out his name. He brushed his lips over hers and then felt onto his back next to her, breathing hard.

He felt her fingers on his hand and he tangled his with hers. They laid there for several minutes, and then he turned his head to look at her. She looked over at him, smiling that smile again. "I really am glad you're here," she said. "Not _just_ for this, of course, but I'm looking forward to being together enough so that we can do this regularly."

He chuckled. "Me too." He breathed in deeply, feeling tears in his eyes. "I think what I'm most glad about is that I was coming home to you."

"That's the best part." The smile faded a bit then. "So, how did things go?"

He sighed. "Almost strangely easy. I'm almost afraid to say that, in case it all blows up." He rolled onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow. "She already had the listing agreement all drawn up and I signed it. She's filing tomorrow and then the announcement comes out Monday. Just a short and simple item. We said we decided, after lots of thought, that our lives were moving in different directions, and we have separated. Please respect our privacy. Something like that.

She breathed in, then turned her head to look at the ceiling. "That seems so…undramatic," she said.

"It kinda was. I mean, you know it's really been over for a long time…."

She looked back at him. "I know. But it's a lot of history you're walking away from. And I know that she's managed a lot of your music career."

He nodded. "We'll work all that out. But the basics are set in motion. We'll put the house up for sale on Monday too. She's gonna move to Florida."

She looked thoughtful. "What about your kids? What did Taylor say?"

"Well, I told you. They all handled it differently. Taylor didn't ask much, just said she believed we'd done the right thing for each other." He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in. "And that she would always love me."

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm glad she did that. And you know they all love you and will be there for you." She raised her eyebrows. "So what about your fans? The, what, Chipettes?" She smiled teasingly.

He gave her a side-eye. " _I_ don't call them that. They're just fans or Nashies. Patty was the one who came up with _Chipsters_ , not Chipettes. Not me."

"Well, whatever." She rolled on her side towards him. "I think we should take a minute or two before we make our relationship public."

He frowned. "Why?" Patty had asked for the same thing, of course, but he was interested in why Connie thought it was a good ide.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, for one thing, your kids. It's a lot to take in that your parents are splitting up, but to accept me into their lives – right away – is kind of too much. Plus, I don't want people to make the connection that we had an _affair_ before your marriage broke up." She kind of whispered the word affair.

He scowled. "It was never an affair, Connie. You know that."

She ran her fingers up his arm. " _I_ know that. But other people won't." She sighed. "We've been very discreet up to this point, Chip. We can do it a little longer. Just until it feels like the right time to bring that out." She gave him a coy smile. "Besides, you're here, and you're all mine now and I kind of want you all to myself for a bit."

He smiled and then leaned in for a kiss. "Speaking of that, I think we need to talk about where to live." He rubbed his thumb on her cheek. "I know you consider this home, but…."

She cut him off. "But you need a place in Nashville." He nodded. "I get that." She smiled. "I don't want you going there without me though, so you'll need to find something that'll suit the three of us."

He smiled. He loved that she understood that. "I'm gonna store all the furniture I'm taking, until I find a place. Do you have a preference?"

She shrugged. "I'd really love to say someplace trendy like East Nashville, but I think that might be too…accessible." He nodded. "Maybe a place near the lake, in the Oak Hill area. A little bungalow or something. Or someplace downtown or the Gulch? Somewhere there's more privacy and security."

"Do you wanna look with me?"

She shook her head. "Maybe you find one or two places and then I'll come and look." She bit her lip. "I do still want a place here."

He nodded. "Of course."

"Maybe a place we pick out together?" she smiled.

He was surprised at that. "But you just got this place a year or so ago, right?"

"Yeah, but maybe something a little smaller." She grinned. "A little more _us_."

He frowned. "You sure? You love this place."

"I do. But I also think this is a chance for us to start fresh. Find places that work for both of us and that we're happy in, where we can build our life together."

He smiled at her. "Okay then. That's what we'll do."

* * *

 _She came up behind him in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his back. "I need to tell you that I love you in flannel." He chuckled. "I'm serious!"_

" _You know I'm not really Deacon, right? We don't have the same taste in everything."_

" _I know. But sometimes, okay?"_

 _He turned and put his hands on her shoulders. "Sometimes." He smiled and then kissed her._

 _She smiled up at him. "And those Henley shirts too. They make you look all rugged and sexy. I've changed my mind. Please always wear them."_

 _He shook his head. "I can't always do that, but I guess around the house, it doesn't hurt."_

 _She breathed in. "Around the house. I love the sound of that." Her voice was soft, with a hint of tears in it. He held her close, gently placing his hand on the back of her head, as she leaned against his shoulder. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming." Her voice was muffled against his shirt._

 _He kissed the top of her head. "You're not dreaming."_

 _She leaned back and looked up at him. "I know you've got to go back to Nashville next week, but I was thinking maybe we could get away for a couple days and go down to Todos Santos. Can you do it?" She had been planning to go with her group of friends for their traditional Mexico trip, after Christmas, but she'd been nominated for several awards for Dirty John and had had to cancel. It would be cutting it close, but the idea of it was tempting._

" _Connie, I…."_

 _She shook her head. "Don't say no. I know you have to get back to Nashville." It wasn't just getting back to Nashville, it was the tour in Europe. His first show was on the 15_ _th_ _. "Just a few days. I'm going to really miss you and I'd like some alone time with you." She gave him a pleading look and he found himself unable to resist her._

" _Just a couple days," he said, with a smile._

 _She jumped up and down, clapping her hands together, a huge smile on her face. "It'll be so private and we can do whatever we want. Plus I really want you to see it. It's just spectacular." He loved watching her enthusiasm and he knew, once again, that he couldn't say no to her, which was how they ended up packing a couple overnight bags and boarding a flight south._

* * *

The sun teased his eyes and he slowly woke up. He was spooning Connie, who was tucked up against him. He could tell from her gentle breathing that she was still asleep, so he tried not to move. She had been right, the place was amazing. They had a room overlooking the ocean, decadently luxurious and perfect for a few days away. It was relaxing, lulling them into a place where the outside world seemed to no longer exist. He'd let himself get wrapped up in the beauty of this place, let himself relax into the slower pace, admired both the beauty around him and the beauty of the woman in his arms. He gently kissed the top of her head and then sighed.

She stretched a little then, making a little groaning noise. "You awake?" she asked, her voice sounding sleepy. She rolled over to face him, giving him a languid smile. "You just been laying here?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Woke up just a few minutes ago." He trailed a finger along the side of her face, pushing her hair back. "Just thinking about how great this is. This place and being here with you." He leaned in and kissed her lips. "I'm glad we came."

"Me too. Actually, I'm glad it worked out this way." He frowned a little. "That we got to come by ourselves. I think we needed a little bit of quiet before our lives get crazy again." She ran her fingernails down his back. "I'm gonna miss you so much when you're gone." She looked deep into his eyes. "I wish I could go with you."

"Me too. But next time you will." She bit her lip and nodded. He noticed a shiny glimmer in her eyes and he put his hand on her cheek. "What's the matter, baby?"

She shook her head. "Not one thing." She pressed her hand against his chest and leaned in to kiss him. "I think I'm still just pinching myself when I wake up and you're with me. And when I'm out and come home and open the door, there you are." She smiled. "When you called me from the airport and told me you were here, I held my breath the whole time until I saw you pull in the driveway in that convertible, just in case it was my own wishful thinking. But it's real."

He nodded. "Yeah, it's real." He rolled her onto her back, covering her. She looked up at him.

"I love you, Chip," she said softly.

He smiled. "I love you too, Connie." And then, in that most beautiful and wild place, he showed her just how much.

* * *

They walked down the beach after a light supper. It had been a gorgeous day and now, as the sun was setting on the horizon, it was magical. She slipped her hand in his. He looked over at her and she smiled. "Just think, in a few days you'll be in the cold over in Europe," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That is true. I probably need to bottle some of this up to take with me."

She sighed, then leaned in and bumped her shoulder against his arm. "This has been really nice. I wish we could have stayed longer," she said.

"We'll come back. And then we will." He squinted out over the ocean, then looked back at her. "But I don't want to interfere with your girlfriend trips." He smiled.

"I don't just have to come with them," she teased.

They kept walking. The sand was warm and felt good on his feet. Suddenly she stopped. She looked towards the horizon and he did too. The sky was a soft mix of yellow and orange, with light clouds spreading out across the fading blue. They had walked to a place that was actually a ways from the ocean itself. "I need to take a picture for Yoby," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

He watched as she walked a little further, then stopped, facing the sunset. He watched her, as the breeze lifted the hem of her dress a little. He pulled out his own phone as he watched her raise her phone and play a little with the orientation. The ends of her hair were lifting and falling with the breeze. He thought about the fact that it wasn't windy here like it was on the east coast beaches, that the breeze was gentle and soft. Finally she seemed to have her view set. He held up his own phone and captured her as she was taking her picture. He squeezed off several shots until she turned back towards him.

She was smiling as she approached. "Were you taking pictures of me?" she asked.

"I was," he said, and showed her. "Pretty good, if I say so myself." Then he put his arm around her waist and took a selfie of the two of them. "For me. So I can look at you when I'm gone." Then they headed back the way they came. When they got back to the hotel, he pointed at the hanging chair near the pool. "Go sit there," he said, and she did. She leaned a little towards one side and crossed her legs. She smiled at him. He gestured. "No, turn towards the sunset." She did. He framed up the shot, first admiring her slender calf where the dress draped down, and then the perfect cleavage angle. She was smiling a little and he took the shot, then walked over to show her. "Do you ever take a bad picture?"

She laughed. "Yes. When it's the day before I finally need to wash my hair." She tapped the phone. "Will you send those to me?"

"I'll do it." He then held out his hand to her and she took it, letting him pull her up from the chair. He leaned in and kissed her neck behind her ear. She shivered just a little. He moved his lips to her ear. "How 'bout I wash your hair?" he whispered, as she laughed.

"How could a girl resist?" she murmured, as she let him lead her back to their room.

* * *

He was awake when the flight attendant came around with the middle of the night snack. He smiled as he took it and then ordered a bourbon to hopefully help get back to sleep for the rest of the flight. He appreciated that Patty had booked premium economy. First class had been prohibitively expensive but the premium economy allowed for a little more room. After he ate, he sat back, closing his eyes again, waiting for sleep to come. He'd never had too much trouble falling asleep, even on planes, for which he was grateful, and there were still several hours before they'd land in Nashville. There he would take another flight to LA.

Connie had stayed one more day in Mexico after he'd left to head to Europe. Leaving her had been tough, even though he'd only be gone for a couple weeks. She'd held tightly to him before she let him go, kissing him as though, if she stopped, she would no longer be able to breathe. He still had an ache in his heart from how much he missed her already. They'd had nearly a month together in LA and he'd grown used to going to bed with her every night and waking up next to her every day, just the mundane thing he'd been looking forward to for all those years. It had been fun spending the Christmas holidays with her and Yoby. It had felt strange not to be with his kids and he'd had bouts of feeling lonely, knowing it was just their absence in his life. Addie was apparently still struggling with her emotions about the separation, according to both Taylor and Chase, but they also assured him it would pass.

He'd flown back to Nashville for a day, between Christmas and New Year's, to supervise packing up the things he was taking from the house, and getting them stored. The house, as expected, had sold quickly, even with it being the holidays, and when he'd gone to the house, all that had been left was his. Patty had moved to Florida already and settled into a place not far from her mom's. He had considered looking for a place while he was there, but, in the end, he decided it could wait. He'd gone back to LA – and Connie – the next day. Sharing Christmas with her and Yoby had been amazing and he'd been ready to get back to them.

They'd stayed in touch, while he'd been gone. Texts, short phone calls, pictures. Not very satisfying, but it was better than nothing. Although he'd been a little nervous about touring on his own, it had actually exceeded his expectations. The venues were sold out or almost sold out. The VIP experiences had gone well. The fans had been supportive and encouraging, never once touching on his split with Patty. They had loved his new music and that had felt good to hear. He'd gotten the chance to write with some of the best songwriters in Nashville and he was glad to hear they felt his songs had gotten better. It validated his belief he was had grown as a writer. It had been exhausting too, though. He hadn't had much time in between shows and between that and the jet lag, he felt like his voice was gravelly and that his energy wasn't as high. But the crowds at the shows had buoyed him.

As unsettled as some parts of his life still were, he felt content. Connie would be waiting when he got back and they'd figure out the rest of their lives then. He knew it would probably always be complicated for them, with careers and homes on both sides of the country, but they were committed to making it all work. He loved her as much as he had in the very beginning, knew she felt the same. There really was no one he'd rather be with than her. She still challenged him in all the right ways. He loved listening to her talk about what mattered to her and supporting her dreams and passions. When they went to bed at night and she snuggled into him and whispered that she loved him, it reminded him he was finally home, where he wanted to be.

Between the two of them they had lived a lot of life without each other, not knowing that their odd, occasional feelings of discomfort had meant that neither of them had quite found what they truly needed. The stars had finally aligned for them that day when they met at the first table read. Then he realized it really happened before he met her, when he'd gotten the call from Callie, telling him he'd gotten the role of Deacon after all. His whole life had changed that day, in ways he'd both imagined and had not.

He smiled to himself as he pulled down his cap over his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Connie had wanted to know how things were going, every time they spoke. She regretted having to stay behind, but she'd given him lots of encouragement from LA. Although he'd been kind of sad the tour was over, he was really looking forward to the reward, as he flew home to her and anticipated being enveloped by her love. And then it wouldn't be long before they stepped out together into the light. She told him she had a couple ideas and he couldn't wait to hear what those were. He sighed happily as he began to drift off. Life was very good indeed.


	36. Chapter 36

**March 13, 2019**

He started buttoning up his shirt, but he really was looking at Connie, as she laid the clothes she would be wearing out on the bed. She was only wearing her bra and panties and, as he thought about what she looked like without them on, he was seriously distracted. The buttoning got slower and slower as he watched her step into her jeans and slide them up her legs and over her hips. He was pretty sure she knew just what it was doing to him to watch her and she was definitely making a show out of it. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

 _She had arrived in Austin the night before, straight from rehearsals for her next film. He had been in Nashville for a week and a half, so he'd been anxious to see her. When she got to the room, he had put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside of the door. She gave him a cheeky grin. "I like the way you think," she said, with a laugh._

" _It's been, what, ten days since I've gone to bed with you," he said, winking at her. "We've got a lot to catch up on."_

 _They had stayed in bed until almost ten that morning, talking and updating each other on what had been going on while they'd been apart, as well as making love. They didn't quite 'catch up' –_ we're too old for marathon sessions, Chip _– but it didn't matter. Being together was what was important. He had ordered room service and they took a long shower together. It had felt like Christmas and she was the only gift he cared about._

 _Sometimes he found himself wanting to pinch himself, to be sure he wasn't dreaming. They were living together in LA and Connie would look at houses when she was between engagements and he was off doing his thing. He was combing the city of Nashville for an appropriate place to buy there. They were working through all the pieces and parts of building a life together. It still felt new, though, and then he would remind himself that it actually was all real and they were doing it and no, he was not dreaming._

She turned to face him then and a sly smile crossed her face. He was really afraid he might lose it as he gazed at her lush breasts covered by a very sexy black lace bra that accentuated her cleavage. He swallowed hard. She laughed. "Have you forgotten how to button a shirt?" she asked teasingly, as she walked up close to him.

He looked down and saw that he had, in fact, missed a button, which caused the rest of the buttons to be one off. He looked back at her and smiled. "I think I was distracted," he said.

She laughed softly. "Apparently so." She pushed his hands away and slowly unbuttoned the shirt, periodically lifting her eyes up to his. He, on the other hand, was watching the smooth skin of her breasts, watching the rise and fall of her breathing in the perfectly glorious curves that practically spilled over the top of her bra, one that dipped low between her breasts.

She pushed his shirt back from his chest, instead of buttoning the shirt back up. "Connie," he muttered.

She ran her hands over his chest. "You have such nice…definition," she murmured, and then she leaned forward and kissed his right collarbone, then his left. He breathed in sharply and then watched, transfixed, as she touched her tongue to the center of his chest then started to kiss him again, light pecks against his skin. He knew if he didn't stop her, they wouldn't leave the room.

He put his hands on her arms. "Connie," he growled. She straightened up and looked at him curiously. He looked hard at her. "You need to stop."

She smiled flirtatiously. "Oh, I suppose," she said. Then she made that face – like a wry, halfcocked smile – and said, "Okay, let me button you up then." She reached out and buttoned his shirt from the bottom up, then smoothed her hands over his shoulders. "Okay, there you go."

He raised his eyebrow at her, pointing at her blouse on the bed. " _You_ need to get dressed."

She laughed and walked over to pick up her blouse. It was white, with long sleeves, and it skimmed her body. She tucked it in, then put on her belt, the one she'd taken when she left the show. It was Rayna's 'I love you' belt and he smiled to himself, thinking about her wearing it that night in particular.

She turned and saw him watching her. "You nervous?" she asked, with a smile. She reached down to pick up her jacket and shrugged that on.

He shook his head. "Nah." She looked at him as though she didn't believe him. "Okay, maybe just a little." They were making their first official appearance as a couple. In Austin, at the screening of the Bluebird documentary at SXSW. They had both been in it, and he was an announced guest, but no one knew she was going with him. He would be performing afterwards with other songwriters who were featured. They'd be staying for several days afterwards so she could show him her Austin.

"This kind of thing happens all the time, Chip," she said. "Couples divorce and move on." He and Patty weren't officially divorced yet, but at least things were well on track. Connie made it sound simple, even though they both knew it wasn't.

He put his arms around her and raised his eyebrows. "And the man gets involved with his old co-star, who he's just happened to have actually had a long term secret relationship with?"

She smiled. "It happens. But no one needs to know _that_ whole story but us. Right?"

He nodded. "Right."

She smirked. "You embarrassed to be seen with me?"

He laughed. "Not even a little bit."

She reached up and put her hand on his face. "It'll be okay." Then she scratched his beard with her fingernails. "It's our coming out party, babe. I get to go out in public with my guy and I'm really looking forward to it."

He reached out and wound a tendril of her hair around his finger. He smiled. "Me too." He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Wanna know what I'm most excited about though?"

She smiled, that smile that lit up her face. "What's that?"

"You'll be able to sit in the audience and listen to me perform." He felt a wave of emotion pass over him, thinking about that. She'd heard his songs, she'd had her own private performances, but now she could sit out in the audience with everyone else and he could acknowledge her as his inspiration. It was hugely satisfying to think about that.

She tilted her head up for a kiss, which he gave her. "I'm excited to do that too."

He stepped back and held out his hand. "Shall we do this?"

She took his hand and smiled at him. "Absolutely." She reached out for her purse and then let him lead her out of the room.

* * *

As they rode down the elevator, he looked over at her. She looked beautiful, her hair draped over her shoulders, looking relaxed and happy. It was more than just this event. This was finally getting to tell the world they were together and in love, no more secrets, no more hiding. She looked up at him and smiled and he could see the happiness in her face, the love in her eyes.

It hadn't always been easy, keeping things under wraps still, even after he'd gone out to California in December. The holidays hadn't seemed to be the right time, though, especially since his family was still working through the realities of his and Patty's split. Their plans to separate had been made public and, with his UK and Germany tour dates hitting after the holidays, it had seemed better to wait. He'd done the tour alone, missing Connie. They'd had their time in Mexico, alone, before he left for Europe, and that, plus phone calls and texts had carried them through until he got back. This event, though, had seemed right. It was special. Not only was it the debut of the Bluebird documentary, which they'd both had a part in, but it was Austin, a place she loved and had been anxious to share with him.

The kids were mostly okay, the rest of his family accepting. Patty had been gracious in the end, even though she didn't have to be. This was what he'd been dreaming of, even before he met Connie. A life filled with love and hope and magic. Being able to make that life with _her_ had been worth everything they'd gone through. Now it was time for the last piece to fall into place.

The elevator let them out in the lobby and they headed for the door. She stopped just before they headed out and looked up at him, holding his hand tightly. "You ready for this?" she asked.

He looked down at her and smiled. "So very ready," he said. They walked across the lobby to the car pick up area. He gave his name to the concierge and they walked outside and waited for their car to come around.

* * *

When they got to the Paramount, Connie suddenly seemed a little skittish. She squeezed his hand hard. "What's the matter, baby?" he asked, frowning a little.

She opened her mouth, then smiled at him a little nervously and shook her head. "Nothing, really. I mean, I don't know why I'm feeling all these butterflies. And I need some water. My mouth is like the fucking Sahara Desert."

He leaned close to her ear. "You not ready to do this?" It would be hard if they'd planned all this out and then she balked.

She shook her head. "No. I'm ready. What I said before is true. I'm so glad to be here, with you. I'm excited to do this. I'm, well, I don't know. It just feels like a big deal."

He smiled. "It _is_ a big deal. We've been waiting for this for a long time."

She was still holding his hand tightly and she turned slightly, putting her hand on his arm. "Yes, we have. So let's do this."

"You sure?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure."

They walked into the theater together. As they walked through the crowd backstage, he noticed people looking at them. There were those who were surprised Connie was there after all and then, after a quick look of surprise, they acted as though them being together was as natural as the sun shining. He started to relax into it and he could tell she was too. Her hand first loosened its hold on his and then she let it go, choosing instead to take his arm or put her hand on his back, or something else that kept her close, as they chatted up both people they knew and those they didn't.

When they finally walked out into the theater itself, he could practically hear the gasps of surprise and he could feel the excitement throughout the venue. As they found their seats, she tugged at his arm and, when he turned towards her, she surprised him by lifting her lips to his and kissing him. Right there in the Paramount Theater, in front of a roomful of people. His eyes felt damp for a second as he thought about how glad he was they'd made it to the finish line. They'd crossed the last hurdle and now they could move into the light. Together.

As they settled into their seats, she threaded her arm through his and smiled. "I'm really looking forward to this," she whispered.

He nodded. He knew she didn't really mean the movie. She meant them. "Me too," he whispered back. She gave him a knowing look and then sighed. He was the luckiest guy in the world. He couldn't wait to get on stage and perform for her. And acknowledge her. And then, at the end of the night, he was the one who got to go home with her.

 _Dreams might not come easy,_ he thought, _but they sure are sweet when they came true_.

 **A/N: So that's the end of this very long story. Thank you for coming along on this ride with me. I hadn't really intended for this story to get so long, but there just seemed to be so much to tease out, especially after Connie left the show. Thanks for loving By The Firelight as well as Dreams Don't Come Easy. I've enjoyed imagining Bristen and have appreciated all the kind reviews and PM's.**

 **By the way, with respect to Blue, Chip recently contributed to a project called 'Letters to my Dog' and in his letter he mentioned that Blue loved Mom, aka Patty, best. That's where that came from. He does seem like Chip's dog though, I'll admit ;-)**


End file.
